Long Did Poems
Long Did Poems. Below are the most popular long Did by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Did poems by poem length and keyword.
Self respect. Where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
Like the present of a past known all too well.
"So many dying, in the air the bodies I smell".
"One man killed, one sitting in jail".
Already too many burning In hell.
Sons and daughters in holding cells.
Life without parole, with no bail.
Mommas asking God where did she fail.
Self respect. Where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
Devils knocking on Heavens door.
Looking for more falling Angels to store.
Already enough rich people looking down at the poor.
The Armor Of God is what you should have wore.
People who care, we need more.
I mean more of the rich to bless the poor.
Love concurs all for sure.
Self respect. Where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
The wicked don't care. Their just cruel and mean.
That brother died. He had dreams.
Set up by them feans.
Children left behind, without a father.
Momma standing strong, the Lord gave her the power.
Self respect, where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
Self respect. Where did it go ?
This generation just don't know.
Self respect, where did it go?
This generation, just don't know.
I Did Not Kiss You Goodbye
By Franklin Price
03/27/2022
I did not kiss you goodbye
On the evening that you died
It has not ceased to bother me
If I said, I would have lied
I was saddened by self pity
That I was being left behind
That was not supposed to happen
It had never crossed my mind
Our daughter Dani and myself
Were holding on to you
When the Lord took you to Heaven
And your life on Earth was through
A calmness overtook us
Peace and sorrow in our head
Your soul had gone to Glory
Your body left there in the bed
The priest came soon thereafter
Said his last words over you
That evening had become a blur
What was I supposed to do?
Hospice called the mortuary
Who took the body left, away
All of this within a hour
At least it seemed so on that day
I realized, I had not kissed you,
As God took you by the hand
I said the words, “I love you”
I pray to God you understand
That we're only separated
Until we meet again on high
I'll kiss your lips again in glory
When I leave life by and by
Come on people lets be civil
Why we causing so much trouble
In a world that needs to see
So much more humanity
Hatred can be lessened by
The love we all have inside
Showing the darkness it wont win
Bringing the world back again
Into the light where it can shine
Allowing all hearts to align
In one gigantic universe
Hand in hand we'll beat the curse
And bad vibes sent out our way
Do it now--we can't delay
Joining in adversity
Sending out a hopeful plea
That people of different races
Will forget all the disgraces
That divided us and see
That your nationality
Shouldn't keep us seperated
This kind of thinking is outdated
Lets all look into the future
Knowing we can come together
Without issues of differences
My mind no longer can take this
It's about to go insane
Why we causing so much pain
Wherefrom did you get your yellow roses
Ocean in eyes looking deeply for the shores
Marks of punctuation the prose merrily loses
In every pore the lyre plays love lore
I will play with you
With your red and blue
Bringing out a hue
From blend-the-moon milieu
Thank you that you have granted me the licence
To play with the calligraphy of your swimming stanzas
We in tandem make them tango priceless
Tooting the flute a looting extravaganza
In our words
Is swinging sword
In metaphors we have stored
Guitar galore
Are the readers thinking what we do is all nonsense
Let them read us while unconscious of their bread and butter
Playing with the nightingales of lovely lyrical content
Forming shapes of luscious poetry far above the daily gutter
When the stars would dim
We'll look at the dew
Fading moon slim
Purple poetry view
August 21, 2019
Invitation to Play Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sheri Fresonke Harper
If you are nice to people and they are nasty to you for no reason, maybe they are terrified your 'Niceness' will spread on to them.
This would be lethal to the part of them (the nasty part) they have built over time, to feel a sense of safety. (Their defence mechanism). This part of them - is what attacks your kindness to avoid its death. A false personality fighting for survival.
Not only does it fight not to die, but it will bring your demons (divided thoughts & emotions) to the surface too, to feed off, and strengthen each other. (If you react.)
This could be why people are unkind to you for no reason - when you are just trying to be nice, (and maybe why you shouldn't react).
Hmm, yum— I come,
as a fan and chum of cheese,
I love almost all the types,
but if you're of those who don't choose cheese,
you might find this poem quite cheesy.
As for me, cheeseburger or yummy cheesecake
I can never be cheesed off by any cheese.
This poem, therefore, is for cheese sake.
Serve me the cheesiest pizza, if you please.
Ah, I'm so very fond of cheesy macaroni.
Even greens become appetizing with pecorino.
I couldn't resist a cheesy pizza with pepperoni.
I'd love to taste a Spanish zamorano.
Cook that spaghetti, or that bolognese.
Top it with red cheddar or mozzarella.
All that's far tastier with layers of cheese.
Cheese ain't merely for the mice of Cinderella.
And in my sandwich, stuff that provolone or ricotta,
for I've already tasted jibneh arabieh.
Under the crescent moon, on the menu be crescenza,
or even a candle-lit dinner for two— and a dish of brie!
Lasagne with colby or Asiago—
Melting Greensward or gooey Gruyere.
A cheesy casserole with manchego,
And Roquefort's tasty, I will swear.
Be it cottage cheese or friesian,
Greek feta cheese or french fromagefrais,
You can bet I'd enjoy a Parmesan—
anytime, anywhere, anyday!
A dollop of dunlop may not be so bad for a diet,
but cheese is a major culprit behind chubby cheeks.
The wish to forever stay slim and light,
has to compete against the desire for camembert with leeks.
Next on my menu, the popular cream cheese,
and I did not forget Indian paneer cheese curry.
Oh, try some Swiss chard, with Swiss cheese,
And you won't forget that taste in a hurry.
Say cheese, smile, and say cheese for the cam even, saying, "wow, now."
Taste a slab of halloumi or gouda, and thank God for the cow.
They spoke of lines
I did not see any
Oh, those blue ones?
Ha!
By the time I noticed them, my masterpiece was finished
I heard the last bit of the teacher’s instruction
“outside of the box”
I looked around but saw no box
I saw a dragon, elf, faerie, and VW bus
A mushroom came alive and flashed me with her round bottom
Words came rushing by
I snatched a few of them
They laughed and giggled
One of them kicked my finger hard
They would have their way; I was their puppet master
I am an artist, cartoonist, and poet
No one can advise me
I lean into my own truths
Listening to my spirit guides
They swarm me with ideas, and cannot be thwarted or stopped
They cannot be slowed down or discouraged
I am an artist; I am who I am who I am
A tiny glimmer, so very small,
Of intolerance, before the fall
It's a gentle wish, a quick desire,
Just one small spark, could light a fire.
It finds dry wood, in the ways we make sound,
Rage's orange glow spreads all around
A despicable heat, yet thrilling blaze,
Lost is compassion, in its bright haze
But the wind blows, the flames leap high,
It paints, polarized trees against the sky
A roar takes hold, it will not cease,
Swallowing up all joy and peace
Now emotions creep, with tempting call,
To walk a line, risked by us all
A tricky step, with nothing near,
The high-wires thin, controlled by fear
They pull and push, a twisted sway,
Along that rope, night and day
Hate is the news digging us all so deep,
Where honesty fails, and the truth is always asleep.
The ground below, so far away,
Demands a price to pay,
For the games, humans do play
That little spark, now burns us all, the scars are vast
How long can this estranged incendiary inbalance last?
I lost control of the day again ...
Staring blindly at my tracks in the sand
... they go lonely
He chose to die rather than live
If only ... If only ... If only ...
All the time it pops up ... why?
The world was turned on its head ...
He invested everything in a new business a year ago
No one starts at the top
and it is rarely black or white
What went wrong ?
Don't judge yourself, my dear -
do not pull me away when the crisis strikes
Credit, consumer loans and new business
which did not go in plus
Why didn't you ask for help?
- "in good and bad days" we promised each other
If only ... If only ... If only ...
I knew you struggled with sleep, initiative and appetite
You were exhausted, despairing and depressed
I tried to use my energy to think positively
With the nerves and emotions in full tension
- you were not receptive
My grief cannot be described
my questions never get answers
A sense of shock and numbness
my daily functioning is impaired
There was so much I would say ...
Grief has a certain number of tears
who must cry
If only ... If only ... If only ...
- where it is completely dark there are no stars
04/07/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The One that got Away Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
- This is a fictional poem :)
Fred's Wife Needed Her Wings Clipped Or Did She
So it's men's bowling night out.
Usually Fred would bring his fan club,
his wife.
But lately his wife needed her wings clipped.
She done Fred wrong.
Real bad, real bad
where Fred didn't come home for three days
last week
After a night out of bowling the guys stop off
at the local pub, where everyone knows each other.
Fred orders the guys a round of drinks
and then pawns his loyalty to his wife
to all the listeners at the bar
Remember Fred's wife done Fred wrong
Isn't that right? Or is it rights that isn't?
Fred's all wound up, elephant memory and all.
He's stripping his wife naked in front of the guys,
exposing all the dirty secrets and laundry.
Go Fred, Go Fred, Go Fred
He's pregnant ... with piranha's.
He's stupid, with donkeys riding piggyback
Or is that the other way around?
Fred's on a roll.
For one hour straight, and more rounds a beer
for the guys he's going at it.
Even the fat smelling, a homeless lady in the corner
is licking her chops for Fred's free beer. Not him.
By now Fred's reduced his wife to residue.
Remember Fred's wife done him wrong ...
she needed her wings clip ...
or did she?
Man, oh man ... what kind of guy would do that?
Being so underhanded
and being such a man eating specimen
connie pachecho
2/9/17