Long Ct Poems
Long Ct Poems. Below are the most popular long Ct by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ct poems by poem length and keyword.
Indeed, there are three sides to every story
multi-faceted, alerting us against fake news-misery
thus, wisdom is needed to unravel twists and mystery
along circumspection toward seeking truth's victory!
Here am I presenting a story
along my role in child-rearing ministry
facing challenges on how to handle information-delivery
yet staying calm, though reality-check makes me feel sorry.
One decade and five years ago,
our special child was diagnosed
with infantile spasm epilepsy
along global developmental delay…
Side 1 ~~~ Perspective of the doctor:
The pediatrician with her neurology expertise
explained the CT (computed tomography) scan
result of our child’s brain --- as having an atrophy.
Then she declared this prognosis:
“Your child will progress toward retrogression.”
Side 2 ~~~ My poetic viewpoint in ABC with alliteration:
Apprehension midst anxiety agitated my angst
Baby in our life-building bosom
Calls for compassionate care due to cerebral palsy condition
Diagnosed with debility, demanding diligent duty---
Enabled with endurance for extra-effort
Fervently facing feats for faith-fueling
Guided with God by His grace and goodness
Hope-filled to help our child, we are hoisted that his
Infantile spasm epilepsy should not be ignored…
Side 3 ~~~ The Omniscient vision of the Divine Almighty:
By faith in the Sovereign Supreme Creator Who knows
perfectly what’s best, I see His miraculous power in
our child who is now 15 years old…progressing
toward milestones, midst the Lord’s provision,
with our love, prayer and trust, testifying
“With God, nothing shall be impossible.*”
Indeed, there are three sides to every story
multi-faceted, alerting us against fake news-misery
thus, wisdom is needed to unravel twists and mystery
along circumspection toward seeking truth's victory!
Here I stand today along triumphant territory
winning over unbelief, skepticism and guilt's fury
learning that the Almighty can overrule man's story
since He knows everything, and such is proven in our history!
*Luke 1:37 "For with God nothing shall be impossible."
November 29, 2024
1st place, "Three sides to every story" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 12/16/2024
> I do not know if this qualifies as poetry. I take my ideas from the news, or what happens in life around me. I hope you don't mind. My good news is I do not have cancer now, and it's only just beginning to sink in. I wonder why I survived and not my younger sister. I would have given my life for her. Sadly He does not do deals either. does He?
I made a deal with Satan.
It's time to sleep.
It's time to sleep, to rest my head.
Upright on my frame adjusted bed.
Head held up, feet protected too.
Bet you wonder what I do?
Just pumping up my pressure mattress now.
Gives me back relief, somehow.
Air goes in air comes out.
Like that referendum, that's about.
Tonight I think, I must asleep. My cancer it has gone.
Hospital did peep. Inside of me with a CT scan.
They said, I'm clean, yes Stan the man.
No cancer rests inside of me. None of it could they see.
I guess now I am fit and well. Satan will call me now to hell.
You see, I made him a deal. Was not hard to do.
If he sent all innocents to heaven. I'd pay with my life, it's true.
Then when I'm lodging, deep up there. As hell is not here anywhere!
I'll sort hell out, that's what I'd do. Be soon, like heaven. I'm telling you.
No terrorists will reside there. I'll work that out, I don't care.
I'll get them to clean the furnace there.
Shut them all in no doubt. Oh no, I won't let them out.
I'll rake their ashes finally out. Scatter them, I will.
Not on land,will they fall. But sink in the oceans deep, they will all.
Then, heaven and hell will be okay. Oh! Did I forget to say.
The other pact I made with Satan was, for me to come back to earth!
Fighting fit, Armour on, ready to send all terrorists, right where they belong.
I've made a deal with Satan, and soon all terrorists will be gone.
Of course I would like to go to heaven when He calls But I wonder if I could really tolerate that floral dance of Sir Terry's for eternity. I have not really made a pact with the devil, honest, I would not know how. And it would take a far cleverer person than me to pull the wool over Satan's eyes. After all he is supposed to know everybody's bad points, isn't he? Have a nice day everyone. I did and as i said, the reality is just sinking in. (The mad author)<
Mario Vitale is a poet with over 1,000 poems towards his credit platform.
Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform.
Vitale has hooked the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as, “ John Ashbery & Major Jackson”.
Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct.
Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet.
when you roam the streets at night and you
don't want to fight the temptations that coincide, you keep the anger inside.
The greater not the lesser and it's going to fester.
You learn all the wrong things that you can,
soon you're saying, what's up" to the pusher.
Then you're not weighing but conveying the wrong not the right and you set to flight
all that you built and the good reputation to the hilt.
you start sampling the psychedilic candy and the pot pipe is handy and you find that you don't just have pryamids in Egypt.
Your thought burns and your nose stings,
I better stop by on baby doses any longer!
It makes you feel so good you wouldn't stop if you could
I shouldn't I couldn't, I wouldn't, I must stop, but I have to cop another buzz
Everybody thinks that you're so upstanding but you're really spoiled and demanding and Jesus is your main stay, but you're fooling all that you can
You live to drug, drug to live and to hits the bars for the fire water, but you're really out of order !
you score a hit a cop abuzz and you get so high you don't know anymore
Woops, now you're on the floor !
Get up! Pick yourself up!
Be a man for once, but, can you be if you never really were.
One day you wake up from a binge and you fear for your life and you cry out, "Lord! Save me !"
oh, let me tell you a twisted tale . . .
of robin hood and a merry band of followers
but my story does not take place in folklore but in reality
todays story is of an archer, a person skilled with swords and words
skilled in disguise, taking many false faces
and like robin hood of ancient tales, draped in green but this green is jealousy
like the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together
blanketed in secrecy, having no moral compass to guide the evil
oh the hate is a cancer on my poems and beautiful words
my poetry a garden ravaged by this outlaw with a sharp arrow
devious, crafty, sly, calculating, deceitful, fake, scheming, shifty
we know each false disguise you hide behind
every fraudulent name and game
oh, back to the story . .
lets raise the curtain to this ancient tale
this robin hood and a merry band of followers
pretend to be good and kind but shoot arrows
trying to murder my words
from dark hidden places, mingling joyfully
shifty and crooked, shady but quite artful in ways of destruction
a shining star shaped shield of silliness
the way is dangerous in this spider web of lies
bloods seeps from my broken heart like red tears
leaf-strewn gales utter low wails like violins on my murdered poems
robin hood and the merry band of followers
spit them out like stones
and when I read their words, the words squirm like snakes
robin hood of ancient lore stole from the rich to give to the poor
this robin hood steals our poetic muse
not quite the hero of old
but be assured your swords and sharp arrows are nothing to me
because my poems will sail like swans on quiet waters long after you
are burning down below for your deceitful ways
______________________________
January 21, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/twisted
Copyright Protected, ID 16-747-746-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Twisted Robin Hood
Sponsor, C.T.
Third Place
Great Walls of Life
That Northern Wall in Chicago:
With high hopes and unhindered confidence, in early 1974 I was sailing free as a bird. I felt prepared for any and everything that would attempt my defeat.
Never doubting that I was the one; but it all changed when they said, “No!”
That Southern Wall in Mississippi:
Starting over in the Fall of 1974, I took me and mine, and moved several hundred miles away. Thinking I was a trail blazer, a pioneer; I planted my feet and planned to stay. The dreams I had and the visions I saw, fell far short. In the Fall of 1978, I said to my family, “It's time to go!”
That Western Wall in San Francisco:
I had already looked East and decided against the Big Apple.
‘On the road again’ became the story of my life before I ever heard the song.
Hitting the road a second time, across country I went. In 1978, I resettled 2000 miles away.
My expectations were lowered just a bit, but still I saw doorways to success.
However, it seemed that my chosen career continued to find me running in the rear. At first I was accepted and had broad appeal; hearts to me opened wide. After a few years with them, in 1982 a great opportunity for a promotion came knocking; but when I entered the door, they too said, “No”.
That Second Western Wall in San Francisco:
This time I did not cross the country nor even States, but just across town.
In the Winter 0f 1984, I thought that finally I had found a place of security with a bright future. However, two years in, and I was out, when they said to me, “It’s time for you to go”. Nevertheless, I have neither complaints nor regrets at all about any of my four walls.
Those walls helped to straighten me out when I was wrong.
While I was still young, those walls made me strong.
Sometimes, when feeling weak, worn, and small,
I think about those " 4Walls", and feel real tall
02192016 (PS Contest, "4 Walls" by C.T.)
Decades have clocked past since we were capped by roof
As you take your children down the history without and in us
We fondly and times somberly reminisce with you
When it was just dad, mum and three carefree children
Now we hold faces of ten -
Mature features of the kids parented within us
How we miss the innocent shrieks of month-olds
The laughter and playful nature your siblings and you shared
Phases changed, wrinkles formed, and one by one, bid bye
The hollow you guys left still is ocean deep
Your occasional visits became occasional fills
You talk of mum’s discipline that we know too well;
That she would become this soft someday, we too couldn't have guessed
How your eyes brighten as you elaborate her nightly stitch work!
To testify we can – her now cracking joints are fruits of care, hard at work then
You fondly recall father’s silent ways of achievement,
How he taught not through words but by action
We sigh with you to shake off miss’s hard grasp
Feeling your deep regret that not you all, could be as him
The green, brown, gray, yellow hues as well, we picture
Yes, you did drag your feet to the fields before sun said hi
Yet beams you all were when “healthy colors” repaid your hard toil on the soil
How sad those glorious seasons come by rarely
Memory of the first grandchild is a treasure
The dozens more, we call them blessings
Great grandchildren, how they rejuvenate us with their plays!
Your older sibling would have loved these moments
History’s trickle has to come to a halt, as responsibilities call
With the farewells, loneliness is ushered, but hey…that’s just life
We remain standing, gazing with you at the fading figures of your loved ones
Glad for your presence and hopefully awaiting another visit
To go down this inexhaustible memory lane
©GraceM Composition
Contest:4 Walls (by CT)
LIFE AND LOVE
Days Running Bleaker~
No more sufferings ~ Enlightening life ~
Uplifting Life ~
Thirsty life drinks desires ~
Life is precious ~ Life to live ~
Hopeful Life is Glorious~
Charm of Life ~ In Depth of Your Blue Eyes
As we met~ Beside The Fountain~
At the Park~ Autumn Leaving~
Crescent Moon Shining~
Shining Starlight ~
On Passing Cloud There Floats a Dream ~
The Memorable Moment ~ Sweet Heart ~
My Sweet Heart ~ Me ~ Mad in Love~
Come and Find Me in My Solitude ~
I am crushing on you ~ My love ~
My Yearnings !~ Burning in Fire ~
Sink and Sense ~Birth of Passion ~
Red Roses ~ A Garland of Jasmine ~
Aroma Roams ~
Come Dear ~ Hold Me in Your Arms ~
Love My Dear ~ You complete me ~
Never Let Me Go ~
I empty the night you rise the Sun ~
I am always right here ~
I am with you ~ We are together ~
Hello Dear~ Love And Dream For New Year~
Love you forever ~
07/05/19
Second Place
'Collaboration Of Your Titles' Contest by charles messina
my four walls are invisible, they cannot be seen
but they are thick, wide and deep after all these years
each board, each nail, a sorrow, a tear, a grief
I hide myself within these self-made high walls
secluded, concealed, my secret refuge from the world
I am safe within my box, I cannot be hurt in my fortress . . .
my box, my fortress has no ceiling and I can see the azure sky
the falling rain washes over me, the wind speaks to me, softly
snow, I gather like a pure white blanket
and my mind takes me to wonderful places, far off lands
and my fantasies are breathless and beautiful
and I write poetry, pages and pages, fluttering away
oh my box is a special place where tranquility dwells . . .
but sometimes, oh dark the journey, I visit death
down winding roads and I am a beautiful girl floating wispy
my long raven hair flowing like a cloud around me
and I stand before tombs, tombs and tombs
and those beneath the cold earth come to me
weeping we kiss until the light of dawn takes me away
back to my four walls, my box, my fortress with no ceiling . . .
and when I must venture into the real world, I wear a mask
a mask of happiness, I can never let anyone see
the pain within, it would shatter their hearts forever
oh my soul and heart are broken for all infinity, this is written
there has been too much death, too much sorrow, just too much
you have no idea, dear reader, you can even fathom it . . .
_______________________
February 19, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/these four walls
Copyright Protected, ID 16-759-533-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Four Walls
Sponsor, C.T.
Second Place
___________________________________
Submitted to the contest, Second Place Contest
sponsor, Laura Loo
Seventh Place
Memorial of a Loved One
In Memory of My Mother, Irene!
Some memories so terribly painful be,
and will not leave my memory.
I took care of my bedridden Mom
for five years and then..
On that sunny, dreadful July afternoon
I knew the Grim Reaper was knocking
on our door far too soon!
I called the paramedics on the
phone right away.
My feelings of fear were allayed.
They arrived, but it seemed not soon
enough.
Four paramedics removed her from the
bed and laid her on the floor.
But refused to do nothing more.
They, asking hysterical,me...
Do I have signed papers as to to in life
she wants to be!
I wanted to sock each and all!
I had no such papers, I wept in the hall.
My Mother, on the floor, lay.
All walking about her as if she were less
than a bale of hay.
They all standing there, would do nothing
at all.
I had to search for my birth certificate, to
prove I was her daughter, if I wanted her
to live at all.
Mother, gasping for breath all the while.
Like a drowning child submerged
in death's waters!
Twenty minutes later and doing nothing for
her, I demanded she be taken to hospital.
Of course, it was too late!
Death, yes, choked her in its coil!
Death by nonsensical, legalistic turmoil.
This was the most dramatic, heart
rendering,maddening and horrid moment
of my life.
My Mother, lover of children, filled with love
for life and all humanity!
Killed by needless paper work demands and legality.
Be sure, be very sure you have signed papers
as to your choices.
Elst you die too, despite the cries of your families
tears, and their unheeded voices!
Entered 12/12/2019
Chantelle Ann Cooke's Contest
Memorial of a Loved One
As a Canadian,
I watched the American Presidential Race,
After all, we are connected by a border;
For now anyways, perhaps since Trump is President he will build a wall,
(to keep you guys in)
What truly amazes me is that Trump never has to give a speech;
All he has to do is incite a riot and that is the end of that,
He seems to really enjoy the whole riot thing;
Although he claims to be a peaceful man,
(or have someone else speak)
He makes our Prime Minister look like a God with light shining on him;
And the former President, a demi God, smiling, peaceful and calm,
And Hillary is like the Virgin Mary;
Trump is not even afraid to take on the Pope, maybe that is his next job,
The Canadian Immigration are getting thousands and thousands of applications;
Come on, we welcome you, bring your money, our economy is in in dumps,
What I find disturbing are the Trump followers;
(I wish I knew why they believed in him so much)
I don't claim to understand the whole political U.S.A. scene,
But it seems a bit scary and insane from here;
I listened to him today in a speech begging all civilized countries,
To join in the bombing over Syria because they sprayed nerve gas;
It was the first time Trump showed any emotion,
I guess the imagines of innocent dead babies, children, adults got to him;
Maybe, just maybe he will now become a President . . . maybe????
____________________________________
March 15, 2016
Free Verse Rant/Trump Insanity
Copyright Protected, ID 768372
Political Ordeal
Sponsor, C.T.
Third Place