Long Debt Poems
Long Debt Poems. Below are the most popular long Debt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Debt poems by poem length and keyword.
"What do you want to be when you grow up, son?"
"I think I want to be a poet."
"Oh no," moans Mom.
"Anything but that," groans Dad.
"You'll never make a living," chimes in Uncle Phil.
"Who'd ever marry a poet?" rasps Aunt Lil.
"Maybe you can be a professor," urges sister.
"But I've nothing to profess."
"Or a prominent researcher," urges brother.
"To conclude that my theory was just a guess?"
"How about Law?" cousin Dave suggests.
"Who me? --Defend scoundrels and societal pests?
"Public Service," counsels best friend Harvey. "That's the ticket."
"No way. Politics is not for me. I'm already sick of it."
"Business, ha-ha," smiles 'Honest Sam.' "That's where the money's made."
"Not if I have to lie, cheat, and steal to get paid."
"Well then, medicine's an upright calling," asserts Dr. Surgeon.
"Sure is--if you can handle student loan debt ever-burgeoning.
"So son," probe Mom and Dad, "Why in Heaven do you want to be a poet?"
"Because poets seek the Truth, and their poems show it."
Are you as you want it?
First of all
You have to visualize say it out loud
What you want
Whether what you want to do
What you want to take place
How do you want it to be
for you - glorious you
For starter
I want to cook
Do I cook right now?
No - so it would be a milestone for me
An effort
What else do I want?
I want to be financially stable - self sufficient
Debt free
How do I get there?
Do I just sit here and it will happen?
No
I have to make an effort
Of not eating out too much
Of spending too much
Of watching to see where my money goes
And make an effort of keeping it in my bank
It does not have two legs
But it does have two hands - mine
And it’s gone - just like that
I have to think - it’s okay
It can stay there
And not having me feel like I have to spend it
Does anyone have a problem like mine?
No one?
Lol it’s okay
Mine and I am dealing with it
I want to treat people nicer
And not too set in my way
And not be emotionally responsive
Of their needs - and too absorbed in mine
Things do go two ways
Your ways and the other person’s
Both have to be satisfied
Can you ensure that?
Asking myself lol
I want to be socially responsive
It means making more friends and keeping them
Instead of letting go and let it drift apart
Away from me and long gone
before I notice it
Let bygones be bygones
Today is a new day
Promise?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They travel without passports,
these delicate immigrants,
their wings like stained glass windows
in a cathedral of wind.
They rise into the August sky,
a thousand orange and black wings,
paper-thin, trembling
with the weight of a journey
they do not remember
but instinctively cannot refuse.
They drift over highways,
tiny, winged ghosts in the exhaust,
mapping routes older than concrete,
older than borders, older than names.
Some will faIl, for
a highway stitches
through their flight path,
and the milkweed grows scarce.
The rest push on,
carrying the sun on their backs,
a flickering pulse
toward a home they have never seen.
What is migration but memory
written in the body?
What is memory but a debt
passed down in veins?
the companion memoir vignette can be read at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/dinner_with_the_butterfly_whisperer_13613
Easter isn't about a bunny
Who brings baskets filled with sweets.
Nor is it about the colored eggs we hide,
Though for kids it is a treat.
Easter is not about new frilly dresses,
Bonnets or new suits for little boys.
Although it's nice to have such things,
Easter's not about sweets, clothes or toys.
No, Easter isn't about a bunny,
And it's not about new clothes.
It's all about the Lamb of God,
Who was slain and then arose.
Easter is about our Savior,
Who paid sin's awful price,
A debt we could have never paid -
Only His blood would suffice.
On Easter we celebrate Jesus.
He is risen, our Savior lives!
He left behind an empty tomb,
Let us rejoice in the hope He gives.
4/14/22
Tell me did it hurt to think,
We pushed a girl who was on the brink.
She stood on the edge with her hair in the in the wind,
She Looked down at the water and confessed her sins,
The face of the cliff so jagged and rough,
A normal girl who never felt good enough,
Why did the world weigh so heavily on the shoulders of the girl who was to weak to stand,
she looked at the crashing waves below, her life slipping from her hands.
She wasn't suicidal she just felt the time was right,
She felt the rocks beneath her feet disapear as she took flight,
She swore she was flying the air was wet and freezing cold,
As she plummeted towards the water, Her hand no longer yours to hold,
She felt the waves wash over her.. crushing her against the rocks,
She took the water into her lungs, She'd given life one final shot.
As her hair swayed around and moved with each wave,
Her body rocked lifeless, death had been sweet Her debt repaid..
The water seemed ruthless pale skin now tattered and bruised
A normal girl who felt worthless, a normal girl who felt used...
An American perspective on domestic and world events, in no particular order
SCOTUS rules that Trump’s immune
China flies the spy balloon
Starship booster landing glee
J. Assange is walking free
Bergdorf, Neiman join Saks
Our Secret Service sucks
Russia swaps her jailed spies
Alexei Navalny dies
Mitch McConnell’s stepping down
“Boris” causes Europe drown
Biden cancels loan debt
Hunter’s pardoned by his dad
Hezbollah - beheaded snake
East Coast’s shaken by the quake
Eagle Pass – still open path
Gaza tastes Israeli wrath
North of 40 goes Dow Jones
Loses fight one Alex Jones
French Olympics is a dud
Milton, Helen’s awful flood
Bitcoin’s rising through the roof
“Donald Trump is bullet-proof”
MSNBC for sale
Diddy Combs in Brooklyn’s jail
Donald wins and Harris not
Brian T. assassins’ plot
Bankman-Fried, the largest fraud
“AI” reach is getting broad
Pavel Durov nabbed in France
But illegals push, advance
Mid-East war still rages on
“Year of Snake” is almost born
TikTok may not be around
Syria has fallen down
Anti-Semites flowing crud
Israel keeps oozing blood
Taylor Swift, the billionaire
Art, banana, millionaire
Gone Red Lobster, Tupperware
Weapons for Ukraine affair
Prada sews the spacewalk suit
DOJ quits Trump’s pursuit
Spirit Air takes nose dive
Elon Mask in overdrive
Iran rockets come like rain
Hostages remain in pain
No DC resolve, it’s air
Beirut pagers need repair
Russia crumbles from within
Lower price on gasoline
“Brat”, the word of current year
Now, to ones we once revere
Gone for good, but left imprint
Culture, sport, each own footprint
Lou Carnesecca, Dr. Ruth
Wheel of Fortune Chuck, sad truth
Quincy Jones – culture brass
James Jones - Darth Vader bass
Newhart Bob, satire most
One Phil Donahue, the host
Famous Amos, Maggie Smith,
Richard Simmons, workout wiz
Global flier Dick Rutan
Gossett Lou, of actors’ clan
Matthew Perry, Terry Garr
O.J. Simpson football star
Willie Mays of baseball fame
Y. Sinwar, mankind’s shame
Year’s drawing to a close
Parties, cheer and best clothes
Time for thought and time for fun
Merry Xmas, everyone!
December 15, 2024
Don't hurt me!
I know my black skin blinds your rationality
But don't hurt me!
I am a mother, I shouldn't have to birth your bullets too
Don't Hurt me!
I said don't hurt me
Yet your offensive behavior drowns my defenseless heart
Palms up, don't hurt me
I see you are going to hurt me
Lord, my God, my Father, I rebuke this fear in your name
I rebuke this cycle of minus one
I rebuke this protection because only your hands can bandage what the badge has stole
Protect and Serve safeguards it's employees more than the people
Are we even people to you?
Don't hurt me, turns into pain washed by tears, wiped away by God
My daughter you don't have to hurt anymore
Thank you Jesus, please watch over my family, friends, and people
p.s. will death ever pay the debt of freedom...
My regrets lie hidden below the murky surface
of my emotional seascape,
threatening to pull me down,
like wet woollen wet weather gear
drowns a sailor who falls overboard in a storm.
For regrets are arcane debts never to be repaid.
For the done, cannot be unpicked re-done, nor undone,
and getting over it, needs an account transaction,
to balance the debt, with savings from the good times.
I seldom count my regrets, nor mention them in balance sheet.
For many are too painful to bear, even one at a time.
Going back, reliving the prologue, is a bitter aperitif
to the main course of 'What ifs' dished up with 'If Only' sauce.
THE LAST POST.............
Six soldiers bear a coffin,
Of a comrade killed in war.
The Union flag draped over him,
A hero to us all.
This soldier killed in battle,
In a conflict overseas.
A man who fought for his beliefs,
While defending you and me.
To the families of these soldiers,
Of my thanks I give to you.
The bravery that they have shown,
Such courage is shown by few.
A military burial, a volley of shots,
Then a flag lifted up from its host.
And as we lay him down to sleep,
A bugler then plays the last post.
God bless you our brave British soldier,
For this country still owes you a debt.
You gave up your life for our freedom,
This ex soldier will never forget.
.............Rest in peace...............
Every morning, when I walk under my cherry trees,
There is soothing breeze which awakens my senses,
The flash back of life events roll before my eyes,
I am sent in soul searching and search for the meaning of life,
Long ago, I came to USA with a suitcase full of clothes,
A few dollars which government allowed, lasted only half a month,
Tearfully I had to take a loan, with lot of hesitation,
Loan office quipped, “If you are not in debt, you are not an American”.
Years passed, took many loans, paid many,
Worked hard, made some money,
Family flourished, till all moved,
Now I am in an empty nest.
Now I get kissed daily by,
The passing breeze of awakening,
What good is life if it does not help anyone,
Needy need food, money to educate, keep them healthy.
When I sponsor few needy students to go thru college,
I am not helping just one, but generations to come,
When hungry get food, they become strong and get ready to work,
When sick gets better, their whole life sees wonderful future.
As for awakening, I am moving away from selfish life,
Wrapping up my earthly belongings,
Readying my one suitcase,
Never know when the call comes to leave the world.