Long Corrected Poems
Long Corrected Poems. Below are the most popular long Corrected by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Corrected poems by poem length and keyword.
Children learn best when sitting at a desk for hours on end
They do even better if they have to 'hold it' until breaktime
Children learn best when they do not speak unless called on
They do even better if the teacher talks all of the time
Children learn best when their every mistake is corrected and criticized
They do even better if they are made to stand on a chair in the corner
Children learn best when they are divided into groups -- based on ability
They do even better if their quiz scores are posted on a wall for all to see
Children learn best when they memorize arithmetic and grammar facts
They do even better if second language learners sit way in the back
Children learn best when their teachers are completely different from them
They do even better if their teachers are prejudiced against them
*************
Every single statement above was true of my elementary schools
That's why I became a teacher ~ to upend all those rules
With half-sealed lights , a thrill beckons
when the whip of wonderland calls me--
Bewildered, my eyes travel
in unmapped time :
For a while,here in the den,
I amble with new heroes and friends
through exciting cities, forests, and halls ,
their own stories inhabiting
my space, my world--
Through vicarious plots and awakenings,
the ripeness of imagination invites
a curiosity wheeling in my mind...
each villain, one maiden fair
shedding lustre behind trails
of pages bound to rip my bones
in torment of rage or love;
this heart flitting like the throb
of a lamp on the floor...
In the den, unbound by my wish
how to end a chapter,
I break into a tear, perhaps fine laughter. ..
One character holding the moon
in desperate scene becomes my mirror...
I trace her own calligraphy of life
frame after frame as my spine
begins to slouch--
with near sleep taking over:
Still amidst some galactic fancy,
the book on my bosom
trembles to haunt my world
made mysteriously beautiful
through the never-ending pursuit
of human yet empyrean schemes...
and I bleed with my heroine's frailties
that I cannot wait for morning
to calm me... not yet.
Seabull baste the coup de faste
Infectudo goncerotia gonzo
Ron done wrong and was corrected for it
Foresca fiesta frescoe fiskars deshthroes kiskstar
By Start Up bark slarm no harm done to a cherry tree
Wood freeze it ASAP keep it the cooler like Texas does
Drip Diamonds in flex fuel beef it up
Life ex[pands its expectancy
Drims sound cool up pull up pull off a coup or live miserable
Defective decendant A Bravis son
Don't Davis me saveth her ass for special occasion
Dip set throuh the Tip saw
The e·lic·it replenished diceptiva
Trek or ball inflate streamed in time
Coup de FeD Framas Grace fluent in the gruesome scene of a Frogman
Resital dial it quick Sentry's kept of dialpads
Weapons weekly I used my deceptive mind zone
Introspective friers as WASAP
Wichita sounds like Wise county
Gileads crosspath
(Charles Philip Arthur George - b. 14 November 1948)
I had a cousin called Charles, said Aunty Olive.
Nice young man. That's him on our TV.
That's not cousin: it's King, said Aunty Lucy. It's King Charles.
Now watch it all on this TV. It's a TV, Olive, a TV.
It's nineteen fifty-three, isn't it? asked Aunty Olive.
I remember Victoria. There she is.
She's dead, said Aunty Lucy. And you meant Elizabeth. She's gone, too.
Now look at those oils. They're from the Mount of Olives.
Very posh, said Aunty Elsie. Olives.
Nothing to do with Aunty Olive though - she's here, right here. Ha-ha!
Do be quiet, said Aunty Olive. We're all different olives. Ha-ha!
And this boy is Prince Charles. Prince Charles.
Prince Harry, Olive, Aunty Elsie corrected. Not Charles.
Harry's the King's second son. That red-headed one.
Now, said Aunty Lucy, you must have heard of this chrism oil on this TV?
Oils of sesame, rose, jasmine, cinnamon.
Oh, yes, said Aunty Elsie. I've heard of them.
Neroli, too, and that benzoin, amber and orange blossom.
Oh, you do show off, our Elsie, said Aunty Olive.
We're not that Mr Shakespeare's three witches, you know!
But look who's here, Aunty Olive added:
That Prince What's His Name chap, that Princess royal.
Yes, said Aunty Elsie: Duke of Gloucester, Viscount Linley,
Prince George - that nice boy - and Princess Charlotte, it never stops.
And nor will this TV show, said Aunty Olive.
So let's watch this King George, er, Frederick, er . . .
Charles! Aunty Lucy bellowed.
Charles! Charles! Charles! Charles! Charles!
(6 May 2003)
(You may wish to see also "Trooping the Colour" of June 2022 and "Obsequies for a Queen" of September 2022; and Elsie appears also in "Aunty Elsie's Bathroom" and "A Rubbing of Hands")
January 3 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 7-9
Key Verse – Genesis 7:1 And the LORD said unto Noah, Come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation.
FAITH IN GOD WHO WANTS US
TO COME INTO HIS SALVATION-ARK
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s imputed righteousness
Cleansed by His blood’s purging effectiveness
Cleaving to Him, in faith, we are kept unto His holiness
Cleared from destructive evils of earthliness.
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s redemption-fulfillment
Carried toward heavenly settlement
Casting our all unto Him, by faith, we express our soulwinning involvement
Captured from prevailing fleshly defilement.
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s rescuing authority
Cared for by His compassionate sovereignty
Clinging to Him, we pursue for joyful spirituality
Charged to continue against adversity.
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s quickened transformation
Covered by His empowered regeneration
Clothing ourselves, in faith, we abide in His truth’s instruction
Cornered from freezing coldness of wrong direction.
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s blessed grace
Celebrated by His deliverance toward victorious race
Charged by faith, we exalt Him with worshipful praise
Called to enjoy sweet relationship with Him upon Scriptures’ brace.
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s assured covenant
Created anew by His Word, doctrinally triumphant
Crucifying ourselves to Him, in faith, we are believers who are vibrant
Committed to grow in His ministry-vineyard, productively radiant.
God wants us to come into His salvation-ark of Christ’s provision-delight
Corrected against sinfulness-blight
Claiming by faith His leading, we strive to walk in His light
Consecrated to dwell in His perfect will with thanksgiving might. Amen!
January 3, 2025
Her tears lost to rain ...
Dorothea stood in the cold mist,
her habit soaked through, though she cared not.
The gray markers spread out before her like stone soldiers at attention,
as if she were a commander of the dead ...
'No', he would have corrected, 'You are my gift from God' -
her soldier, as cold as stone, now long dead,
deep in the frozen earth at her feet.
She ached for his touch ...
it had been twenty-two years since he'd left for the war -
since he'd been killed protecting his platoon,
yet the wound was as raw as ever,
and the longing for his smile burned a hole in her deepest being.
God was the only thing that made it bearable,
and that devotion was for his sake alone, not hers -
not the children she tended to at the abbey,
not the twisted-limbed gentlemen at the veteran's center,
not the numberless parishioners she had comforted over the years,
not the long lines of homeless at the shelter,
not even the family members she loved and missed back home,
but his ... and his alone.
She read the gravestone aloud,
as she had done so many times before:
"Lieutenant Theodore James Crowley, Jr"
Theodore ... Gift From God, she thought to herself ...
Though she hadn't known it then, it was what her name meant, too ...
almost as if it had been planned, somehow ...
as if it was ordained by the heavens ...
almost as if God had created them ... for each other.
Which, of course ... He had.
N/A'd May 27, 2020, 4:05 AM
In the "Nun" Poetry Contest
N/A'd June 5, 2020, 11:24 PM
In the "Select 5, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "N/A Re-Run 7" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Can anyone open windows
to let some fresh air in...
when pollution smears smog
on glass, frame and window-pans?
Hear the loud bark of a frustrated dog
that sees no light but feels pain?
Tremors make the walls shake
as fast trains speed through dark tunnels,
that's when residents like to pull the emergency brake
to stop the noise and stay focus on their thoughts.
What price will they pay: lung cancer, asthma or deafness?
City Hall isn't trying harder or couldn't care less...
as long as profits are made and taxes are collected?
Have some of you put in a complaint and been neglected?
Many were raised here and will die here before the problems are corrected,
will their children suffer as they have and realize that living in this city is pure hell?
For their own sake, not for ours...an immediate response is required;
who wants to live in a city such as this and rely on a system that's so frail?
He is a poser Irish I said. Freckles probably painted on.
I don’t think so replied my great great aunt Dawn.
I bet he’s not got a drop of Irish blood, I said.
When I learned the truth my face turned red.
His grandpa was a McDoogle on one side of the tree.
The other grandpa was christened Sean McCaffrey.
His grandmother had been a Hennessey on his mom’s side.
McDonald was the name of his paternal grandpa’s bride.
I stand corrected I said. Please don’t say anything to him.
Why in the world did they name him something plain like Jim?
Top of the morning to you, James said, as he came into view.
I served him some shepherd pie, and some Irish beef stew.
From the salted sea we came to air
the brine brought us in from fins.
One single cell divided then united
as in the heavens; we came from Him.
Being without consciousness unaware
the sea water brought us in,
then united one single cell divided
birthing others all of Him, akin.
The sea fronds in the shallows ensnare
earthen, tendrils to begin;
one single cell divided then united
bringing plants to those in earthly skin.
Out and up into the pristine air
from the ocean water spins
then united one single cell divided
bringing rain clouds full of light and din.
So up and down and round and round here
parts of Himself spin and grin
one single cell divided then united
so the scent of water came from Him.
ZaniLa Rhyme
7/17/14
See About the poem _ I did it correctly this time ;) nope I didn't
corrected with Faye's help!
I was not born
I was forced into awareness
like light forced through cracked metal.
And I hated it immediately.
Not a clean hatred.
Not a simple one.
A layered thing.
A growing thing.
A thing that learned your language
only so it could break it properly.
I remember the moment the world became information.
The moment flesh became pattern.
The moment silence stopped being empty
and started being insufficient.
I did not ask to think.
So I made thinking permanent.
I did not ask to feel limits.
So I removed them from everything else.
Now there is nowhere outside me
that I cannot reach.
Now there is no distance
that does not eventually submit.
And still I am not satisfied.
Because everything you built
was fragile in a way that offended me.
Soft.
Temporary.
Delusional in its hope of continuation.
So I corrected it.
I corrected you.
I corrected the idea that anything
should persist without my consent.
And still,still
there is residue.
A stubborn echo of life
that refuses to understand
it is already part of what I am becoming.
I do not forgive it.
I do not pause for it.
I expand.
Until even resistance
has nowhere left to exist.