Long Demands Poems
Long Demands Poems. Below are the most popular long Demands by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Demands poems by poem length and keyword.
My child has ADHD, cry, cry, cry. Whine. Whine Whine.
I am trying to pay attention, but this parent’s child has every ailment.
She wants a 504, and IEP, and any extra intervention, as there is always something.
She is in my office more than all the other parents put together, and I have hundreds of parents.
An incessantly annoying tick of a loud clock demands my full attention.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Man, is that thing loud!
I’m sorry. Can you please repeat this? I ask her.
She has not stopped talking, so I try to catch up.
He has ADHD, a broken foot, a sore finger, and he lost his hardhat yesterday.
Your child?
No. My husband.
I try much harder to listen this time.
But then a fly lands on my desk.
Man is that thing loud!
The hinged door has fallen open
inviting me to kindly step outside -
Death, be not so hurried
to grasp my fragile and wrinkled hand.
You've come for me far too early
so, I must dare to make a few demands.
I've not yet said farewell
to those I've loved and lost,
nor to those who once loved me -
whose hearts suffered at great cost.
One more time must I take in
the fragrance of magnolia,
feel the wind muss my hair,
and say a final prayer.
Do not pity the gasp of my last breath.
Life was a sampling, simply a test,
a temporary state of existence
until Death reached with persistence.
I walk slowly to my grave
not taking his cold hand.
Death does not afford me help.
No choir voices do I hear sing,
no celebration ending my life.
Freedom is awaiting me,
that only Death can bring.
Shed no tears of sadness,
tis for you I mourn and weep.
You must live in this evil world
and I... I shall merely be asleep.
The choice is mine, to spend my time where seagulls sing for me
A day to play beneath the sun, have fun and feel no shame
My chores undone, but my heart is won by everything I see
Not often have I felt so sure, or found a cure to claim
I'll leave behind the pace the grind that keeps me on the run
Without a doubt, I want to shout, and thank the sun above
I'll hide away, and have a day, perhaps if only one
We are meant to have a miracle, a moment's breath to love
To pull down shades, on a sunny day, and grieve of life's demands
are not for me, I'll smile instead, assured of something more
Beneath the sky, I'll watch the waves roll in to wash the sand
and put on hold the old routine, that bores me to the core
To find myself, a sense of peace, a second step begins
All by myself, I will release, the breath I've held within
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
6/20/14
Battle of the Honorable Mentions Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
The truth, my friend, is that:
Our body has enslaved us, and has made us serve it
Day and night, winter and summer, from the first day
It was born.
It never reduces its demands,
It is never satisfied,
It is never pleased, no matter what we provide it with,
But it always is asking for more without ever being
Happy.
If
We do not revolt against this tyrant of our spirit,
This despot of our mind,
This autocrat of our senses, and make it reduce its desires to
The levels of what is absolutely necessary for its wellbeing,
It would be impossible for our mental and spiritual growth to
Become evident, and the balance in our soul to be apparent,
Thus
We would, forever, remain slaves to this lustful and insatiable beast,
Without ever having the chance to become, what God intended us to be:
His reflection upon earth!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
25 June 2021
Henrietta Tweedy
1886 – 1907
I was always taught that good news puts fat on the bones.
And I was taught by my strict Christian father
That before honor comes true humility.
I remember picking the Valencia’s one summer afternoon
And hearing him say
That the winners in life are the givers,
And that a foolish man always despises his mother.
And after services on Sundays,
I can still remember all of us congregated
In the sparse dining room
There on California Street,
Eating mother’s delectable starchy dinners
With my father in white starched shirt
Saying the “grace” before meals,
And ending the prayer, saying:
“A soothing tongue is a tree of life.”
I loved life and I loved God.
And that is all I can say
Here in my lonely grave.
Except,
Roscoe Settle was a thief.
He was the thief of my heart and of my soul.
He was the only one for me.
And I was the only one for him
And that’s the God’s honest truth.
We met on a Thursday evening at dusk in 1904
And his lips found my lips
His blue gentle eyes healed my spiritual blindness
Like Christ by the well
When he met her,
The thirsty woman from Samaria.
And I saw him on the road to Montebello Heights that long ago day
And little did I know it then,
That would be the last time
I was to see Roscoe Settle alive.
Pray for me all kindred souls of the day.
Pray for me as I set loose the atoms
Of a million milliseconds of human time.
Life demands nothing from us
Except,
To die.
It is the ultimate act of humility.
It is the ultimate act of final humanity.
And I am truly honored now
As the worms greedily gnaw
Upon the fat of my bones.
Lasting peace since time began, was never won nor made by man.
Treaties are made, then hastily broken, like cheapened, tin cans.
Israel was just offered to capitulate to all inhumane, demands of Hamas?
Those antedeluvian, October genocidists~are our leaders in DC smoking
fetid grass?
Our own USA, is sadly, way out of political, educational and moral control.
While empty brains in DC, obviously hostile to Israel, are made of mushy
Jelly- Rolls?
DC does not have a clue that body parts from the Nova Festival are still not even identified?
Sadly, this adminstration supports Hamas, and wants all Jews dead and their freedoms…..petrified!
10/20/2024
...
The corruptions proclaims there’s no need for faith,
then offers itself to take up its place,
God gets replaced by ideology,
starving, the corrupted grasp it fervently,
become true believers, it crowds out all else,
until those outside do not deserve help,
then out come the black masks, mobs in the street,
looking for infidels that they can beat,
and all the while they hold in their minds,
the belief that they stand on ‘History’s Side.’
Making scenes at restaurants, plaguing the net,
thinking this evil will change people’s heads,
unable to stand those who live other ways,
the faith of the corrupted badgers and brays.
The corruption even hates the personal,
proclaims that all of it is political,
the TV you watch, booze that you drink,
jobs that you might work, the thoughts that you think,
trying to bind them with chains of P.C.,
everywhere it demands supremacy.
Then it splits us into arbitrary groups,
your skin or your sex is how it defines you,
stray from the path the corruptions lays out
and it will destroy you, grind your life down,
slur you, boycott you, make up a false charge,
it will not tolerate a free mind at large,
you as a person will cease to exist,
no higher goal has the corruption than this.
There is a corruption we all should abhor,
it starts on the left, and pollutes to the core,
a terminal cancer that swallows you whole,
best to cut it out, if you value your soul.
Art Of Nature
Spectacular runs Nature's decoration.
Perfect Art demands adoration.
Paints peerless panorama.
Flowery aroma.
Artistic
Touch.
Sophistic.
Peerless proforma.
Awesome cheerful charisma.
Universe is Nature's creation!.
Spectacular runs Nature's decoration.
Have you seen women,
pushing life uphill
like Sisyphus—
without rest, without freedom?
They birth us,
they work even when their bodies ache.
They serve as if they are waiters
in a restaurant of endless demands.
They do not ask for joy,
they do not demand a pause.
Instead, they whisper prayers
for their family’s well-being—
faithful as devotees before a shrine.
And we—
children, husbands, in-laws—
what have we done?
Did we ever tell them:
“Rest today.
Live for yourself, if only for a moment.”
Even as their souls grow weary,
they keep giving.
So let us lighten their load—
a small help,
a little kindness,
so they may taste freedom,
even if only for a few minutes.
I wonder
if marriage could be less of a quarantine
from significant other relationships
and more of a prime relationship
in love's easy and difficult lessons,
growing more resilient as opening out
to deeper and wider resonant caregiving
and receiving,
extending familial relationships
which, in turn,
do not predominately compete for time
but primally cooperate
with our initial attachment bond.
This feels like the opposite
of a marriage model
in which each partner expects,
sometimes demands,
that all attachment needs
for ecological
and theological
and biological
and sociological
and neurological connection
and healthy cooperative reconnection,
communication,
communion will become monoculturally
and magically met
by this one other mere mortal person.
I wonder, sometimes,
if marriage,
cooperative partnership
and management
and ownership experience,
of creolizing multicultural health
has devolved into a left-brain dominant theory
of humane relationship
sustainable only through threat
of punishing non-exclusive
non-supremacist relationships
emotionally isolating,
commodified,
increasingly codependent
competitive lack of healthy eco-political
democratic co-governance.
Could marriage grow not only co-gravitating
bipolar passion
but also dipolar co-arising compassion,
re-connection,
re-generativity,
resonant resilience,
resting in robust health/wealth
yang/yin
universal/unitarian
left/right communion?
Not so much a polyvagal theory
of partnership;
More of a polypathic experience
in- and ex-forming
EarthRooted healthy marriage,
co-empathic partnership,
full-spectral communion.