Long Crisis Poems
Long Crisis Poems. Below are the most popular long Crisis by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crisis poems by poem length and keyword.
I've spent the evening hunting, as I'm wont to do
and choosing for tonight an older lass,
I hold the shop door open while she passes through
and as it closes, watch her in the glass
Her face is plain, no trace of paint unlines her skin,
her matted hair is gathered in a bun
Beneath the shabby dress, her frame is overthin,
still, I've decided she's to be the one
I drop my gaze just as she steps into the street
Of which route she will take, I've made a note
My heart begins to pound and I increase it's beat
by fingering the blade beneath my coat
When moments later, I begin to follow her,
the horror I keep hidden shakes its cage
The monster I restrain by day begins to stir
and begs me to unchain it from its rage
She leads me on for leagues but I am not deterred
In fact, I'm quite encouraged by the treck
All bets, I'm not the first this dicey whore has lured,
which gets her one slice more across her neck
She hurries up the walkway of a sodden shack
and after she has shut the sagging door,
I peer in through a dirty window at the back
and see her place her parcels on the floor
No sooner has she done so, when a tiny child,
- her son - appears and dashes to her arms
and it is then, the thrashing beast I've let run wild
is battered back by blaring new alarms
I stand, deflated by this unprovoked retreat
and panicked, try to stoke the rage again
but find my homicidal urges can't compete
with what has just awoken in me, then
A crisis of one's conscience, for one moment, will
illuminate the choice twixt wrong or right
and as it was my BEAST, not HER, I chose to kill,
your cobbled streets are safe.
At least tonight....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written: June 4, 2021
Contest: Imagism Poetry
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Stalin
We were coming out of my friend's mother's
baking, she had given us a Danish
pastries because it was near closing time
I remember it was dark, and many people
in the narrow street, when there was
a whisper, Stalin is dead, someone said I can't
It's true, he spoke on the radio the other day
This was 1953 Norway, a few years ago
had been occupied by Nazi Germany
But according to the newspaper, Russia
was our enemy: this attitude has not changed
Russia didn't occupy Norway, but it isn't right
of the fear, the socialist leading party spread
that the economic crisis of 1953 was caused by
The dreadful man called Vladimir Stalin
the closest of my friend chose to desert me
your letter never engraved a word called sorry
but you shamelessly pleaded your case
that how it was me who was the problem
the closes of my friend chose to desert me
the one keeping a record of my wishes, my muse
and all the untold secrets i never refused to tell
every second chance was a new way to betray
maybe you are happy with your new friends
maybe you are happy with your new found love
maybe you are happy with chasing your dreams
maybe i'm happy with you no longer being in life
i'm this dramatic poet who should direct a theater
my friend returned to me after committing infidelity
i'm not his lover but a savior when he is in crisis
i wrote this plea as a way to channel my emotions
I wrote this poem during the pandemic as I questioned what the future held.
Since the pandemic crisis has passed, we keep hearing about a “new normal.” Normal is over, or did normal ever exist?
Will normal ever be the same?
It’s never been before.
Can this new lifestyle be the one?
Will less become the more?
Can changes move you from your place,
when altered is your path?
Will this new trail disrupt your life?
What is the aftermath?
I can’t predict the world’s new course,
as I survey my fears.
I hope my vision’s clarified,
while trudging new frontiers.
I can’t go back, ‘cause back’s not there.
It’s like a shattered glass.
The breach I see ahead of me,
could be a deep crevasse.
I pray to God He guides my way,
and soothes my harried soul.
I know that I can trust in Him,
to keep my being whole.
A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance
to your steps, as you walk the tightrope of life.
Quote By William Arthur Ward
We were young and filled with responsibilities
new to town, married and in our early twenties
My husband needed surgery and I didn't drive
with two small kids I had to find a way to jive
When I got to the hospital I bought him a souvenir
one big fury ape with a grin that said, "I'm here! "
He wasn't in bed so I put the ape in bed instead
a nurse came in, she almost fell over with dread
He came out of the washroom and found it there
when it comes to humor we make quite a pair
He soon recovered and the ape came live with us
I took driving lessons, now I don't take the bus
This is a true story of how I used humor to cope
years have come and gone still I climb the slope
Using humor in a crisis can surely help my dear,
it can ease the soul and help you when you fear.
Morbid fascination (mine) as covid-19 pandemic...
foments rampant monopoly on bedlam
Wreaking ball (his stick) havoc (think ostensible
civil war scale not seen since Vietnam),
whereby microorganisms jamb
*****sapiens immunity system
complements of gook
resembling green eggs and ham
necessitating Doctor Seuss
to stoke bram
bullying cat in the hat
on a hot tin roof damn
senseless cant be understood
Matthew Scott Harris argot sham
bulls (red dilly), and sallies forth
with neither reason only rhyming flimflam.
All Joe King aside - at any rate,
yours truly, (a generic garden variety reprobate),
not hell bent to receive nasty hate
male courtesy vexatious reader to berate,
cuz unwelcome chide and chime
prompts gnome mad tick versifier
to test (ease silly) to provoke ye to fulminate.
Humanity now fishtails helter skelter
across oblate spheroid courtesy coronavirus
global pandemonium unleashed
expletive maniacal tsunami
(think) metaphorical groundswell
primates hurry scurry to and fro,
hither and yon frenziedly
pell-mell housing random erratic
discombobulated, bobble headed
(simulating) quasi Brownian movements
at warp speed embarked
upon impossible mission.
Here I paraphrase (er... rather plagiarize)
President John F. Kennedy,
whereby he delivered on January 20, 1961
his inaugural address in which he announced
"we shall pay any price, bear any burden,
meet any hardship, support any friend,
oppose any foe to assure the survival
and success of liberty."
Though the then USSR
(Union of Soviet Socialist Republics),
now identified as
union of Soviet socialist republics
helped cook who nurse (and ratchet)
state of political hostility
existed between Soviet bloc countries
and US-led Western powers
from 1945 to 1990.
Our present crisis I aim(ed) to show touché
(pardon mum oddest tee) culinary poetic entree,
how bajillions of people mercilessly
unfairly subjected to influenza like agony
exhibiting following symptoms:
cough, fever, tiredness, difficulty breathing
(severe cases), yet
many met their untimely demise
with prompt care, nonetheless minimal delay
ferried them to awaiting quay
where Charon doth ferry
dead souls across Rivers Styx and Acheron
resignedly where forced to abandon treasures they
must relinquish all trapping he/she did parlay.
COPING WITH TRAUMATIC INJURY AND PTSD MARRIED TO A VETERAN BEING THREATENED BY ILLEGAL JAMAICAN IMMIGRANT IDENTITY FRAUD MY STALKER ACTUALLY WAS IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND AFTER ARRIVING WITH A GUNMAN TO END MY LIFE SHE BECAME OBSESSED WITH MY AMERICAN POETRY WITH MY IDENTITY MY GOD I SUFFERED IN SILENCE AFRAID OF MY SHADOW HOW BLESSED I WAS TO MEET MY SOUL MATE A VIETNAM VETERAN WE BOTH HAD SO MUCH IN COMMON WE FOUND A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION FOR LOVE THROUGH OUR ILLNESSES THIS CAME WITH MY STALKER RAGE ENVY SHE ACTUALLY BELIEVED SHE COULD IMPERSONATE ME BY FALSIFYING DOCUMENTS ONCE I SAW A POLICE CAPTAIN ARRESTED FOR FALSIFYING DOCUMENTS AT THE VA MY HUSBAND AND I FEARED OUR LIVES WHAT WILL HAPPEN IS THESE IDENTITY THIEVES HACK INTO HIS BURIAL GOVERMENT LIFE WE PAID INTO SINCE OUR MARRIAGE 2016 WE FEARED ABUSE OF POWER HELPING MY IMPOSTER STEAL MY IDENTITY IMPERSONATE A VETERANS WIFE THROUGH GODS GRACE MY HUSBAND AND I REMAINED STEADFAST BRAVE COURAGEOUS ALL ARMY STRONG WE RECIEVED THE DATA BREACHES INFORMATION HOW TO KEEP OUR IDENTITIES SAFE FRAUD ALERTS AS THIEVES BROKE INTO OUR HOME MY STALKER SEATED WITH CIRO GARGANO BOTH OBSESSED WITH MY HUSBANDS VETERANS IDENTITY MY HUSBAND AND I WERE BOTH IN CRISIS HOW TO COPE WITH SUCH A VIOLATION TO ATTEMPT TO STEAL A VETERANS BURIAL BENEFITS SHOCKING FACED WITH A CRIME BOSS HIS JAMAICAN ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT TALIBAN IDENTITY FRAUD PERPUTRATING FRAUD AGAINST A VETERAN AND HIS DISABLED WIFE I THANK GOD FOR CRISIS TEAM SUPPORT GROUPS WITH ICE VANS TEAR GAS I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND WHY THEY TAKE THESE ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS DOWN THEY ARE HACKING INTO GOVERMENT OFFICES HACKING INTO VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES I WILL NEVER STOP SPEAKING OUT AGAINST THE ABUSE OF POWER THAT THREATENED MY VETERAN AND I WITH IDENTITY FRAUD INTIMADATION BLYING HOME INVASIONS FRAUD FRAUD FRAUD ABUSE OF POWER AT IT'S HIGHIEST POLK COUNTY HAINE CITY POLICE CAPTAIN HURTING VETERANS AND THIER FAMILIES I FEARED FOR MY LIFE AND MY VETERAN SPOUSE WE ARE BOTH DISABLED AMERICANS VERY VULNERABLE TO IDENTITY FRAUD I AM PRAYING THAT ICE SENDS HER BACK TO HER COUNTRY SO MY VETERAN AND I COULD LIVE IN THE REAL PEACE WE DESERVE IN AMERICA
GOD BLESS THE CRISIS TEAM ALWAYS OPEN
WRITTEN BY MRS. YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
The law of redemption is at work today,
God moves within us, shaping who we are.
Heaven is shifting in a redemptive way,
Winds and waves of change never stay afar.
God is alive in us, He is our rear-guard strong,
In crisis, purpose rises from the dust.
Put off last season’s garment worn too long,
Renew appropriately, in repentance and trust.
Rehearse divine promises, revisit faith,
The best identity within you now flows.
Rediscover God's thoughts for your life anew,
Enjoy His Presence, as heaven’s current grows.
Future boundaries now are being laid,
Shift from gleaning to owning what is predestined.
Stake your bold claim, let fear and lack now fade,
Transformation and fresh provision shall abide.
Your toenails show the change that is come to be,
Your fingernails reflect His radiant glory.
Your anointing spreads His perfume endlessly,
His Morning Spirit stirs streets with dancing story.
Keep pressing forward - others will arise,
Your testimony holds authority.
Your story leads with light before their eyes,
A beacon of divine maturity.
It was my first attempt at writing.
I remember the setting and the city.
The theme expressed my feelings at 19,
which seemed to have been a 'crisis point'
in my transitioning from boyhood into manhood.
That piece has been in my possession
for more than 50 years but never printed.
I was a moth in a cocoon longing to break free.
I was like a baby sparrow I once met stranded on the ground.
The difference was that I gave the little sparrow a lift, and
he was able to flap his little wings and fly away. I had no one.
I was a grown boy turning into manhood without a man to turn to.
So I turned to pen and paper to release what was ailing me inside.
I should have known back then that writing was a large part of me.
I had great ambition, but was feeling alone without guidance or direction.
I must have gotten distracted, took the fork in the road that didn't say,
"writing". I've been a minister, social worker, counselor, baker, and so
many other things, but I only returned to writing 18 years ago. The
'writing bug' never left me alone, surfacing again and again. Now I write.
I am eternally grateful that the Lord allowed me to live long enough to write.
090122PS
The best day of my life, I was in absolute pain
The pain was so bad that it drove me insane
A war with my body, I was about to be slain
My cries for help were completely in vain
My body was in a full blown crisis
I felt like I was being slaughtered by ISIS
Labor pains are real, they didn’t come to play
Thank god for epidurals cuz I was not okay
I was pregnant with the most beautiful girl
Someone who’s taking my place in the world
A few hours later she made her appearance
It was then I first felt motherly coherence
An instant imprint, our bond was sealed
This little girl would be the reason I heal
All my struggles and all my past traumas
Didn’t matter now, they just became commas
Because at this point I became a new mama
It made me forget all of life’s petty dramas
I look at her face and forget the rest of the world
She was there in my arms, so tender and curled
She brought me out of a mental darkness
Because I was used to a life of hardness
The girl who saved me from a life on the shelf
She was the girl who saved me from a life by myself