Long Dime Poems
Long Dime Poems. Below are the most popular long Dime by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dime poems by poem length and keyword.
I am fascinated by space science because it is so divine. I am fascinated by space science because everything it entails is sublime. Human operates machine and machine work for human; human input the information but the machine regurgitates it.
Its AI and automation against human invention, e-commerce and job outsourcing in reverse. If you cannot pay me let me go to those who are willing to hire me, but please don’t use me and then you discard me. You lurk behind the screen saying that you have run out of money and you cannot bring me back to fulfill my dreams.
I don’t join games because I don’t know to play them, I don’t play games because am not good at winning them. I don’t play games because I don’t know the rules and sometimes it leaves you confused. I approach everything in life in a pragmatic and realistic manner.
You place the burden on the commuter saying that it is giving the order; computer is not human and someone must operate it to transfer the information to you, oh what silly deprivation. You are trying to elude reality and not living up to your responsibility, the ship will be at the surface on time and you must give me what is mine.
You have built more than a dozen space ship with words dripping from my lips; you have sent missions to the moon with words burning from my finger tips and vinegar is draining in my lungs; with swollen fingers and broken palm words flow from my heart into the computer gut before dawn, and then you slice it up and serve it for breakfast dinner and lunch and disrespect my painful sacrifice, and you call it AI.
I work day and night and because I don’t know how to fight I continue to stretch myself to fulfill a mandate for the moon. You send me into the space to explore the galaxy and look into the black hole to see where gravity is bold and the space around the corner lit up with billions of stars flickering in the night, oh what a wonderful sight.
Will machine eventually take over human lives after decades of painful sacrifice? Will machine takes over our lives and leave us without a dime? Nights upon nights the human brain toil to fill the machine sitting on the throne but sometimes the gripe is so strong it vomits out on the land and my eyeball spread the words all over the human race and squeeze matter into tiny space. It man against woman and one woman working with computer.
Karen Windle roughly on par...
with being a miniature poodle size dogsend
Apartment B44 one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor low income facility
housing older folks convenient starting point,
to launch poem and invite reader(s)
reason(s) without rhyme
why yours truly (me)
chose to express heartfelt gratitude
toward resident Karen Windle,
which named individual most likely unknown
across world wide web
(hmm... maybe methinks perchance
possibly ye did sound her out courtesy radar,
especially if thee dutiful patrol officer
generously handing out -
not necessarily) winning lottery tickets
within vicinity encompassing
University of Delaware.
We (myself and zee missus) inhabit
aforementioned single bedroom abode,
allows, enables and provides
convenient reference point
upon exiting our dime a dozen quarters
(housing near penniless occupants)
verily orient toward left of hallway,
no need to access global positioning satellite
leisurely amble short distance
just count three doors down on the left,
thee will espy name tag printed
small letters Karen Windle
her acquaintanceship we did kindle,
now greater value when measured with corn,
wheat, or other commodities
approximately equal to three bushels,
but varying in different regions.
Explanation whereby appreciation
toward Karen (spry firecracker, energetic,
diminutive, albeit frail looking gal)
materialized when series of unfortunate events
rendered me and mine spouse
without ready immediate access to automobile
near necessity within quaint enclave
identified as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
affords absolute zero public transit,
hence necessity for chauffeur de jure arose,
whereby availability to shuttle us
found monetary compensation declined,
thus stymied intent regarding how I could
communicate sincere thankfulness
relieved when she would accept
poetic endeavor incorporating
best college try (mine) to alleviate
imposition if/when opportunity exists
to scrape meager money
and expect to sink a fortune
maintaining, insuring, fueling vehicle,
significant portion of social security (disability)
allocated to sustain reliability of car
dollar figure greater than buzzfeeding
caretaking, duties linkedin to
mental, physical, and spiritual health
concerning this aging baby boomer,
plus his counterpart approximately
previous couple dozen years.
I have something precious that money cannot buy, no matter how hard you try to convince me that money can make me happy, I would be living a lie if I sit by your side without a dime in my purse and continue to work in the dirt, that is not what I mean, I need the money to fulfill a part of my dream but it cannot make me happy.
I still cannot believe that it is true, that you have searched the whole world through and you could not find a single one that you can understand, and when the nights gets cold you wrap a towel around your soul and walked out in the snow and let the night air penetrates your skin and somewhere in the universe, your soul mate is playing a different rhythm.
I just cannot hold back the tears, when I check your hang out spot and see that you are not there. I have waited so long for you to come and the daily wait makes me feel like a village on the run, wasted time cannot be regained and the long wait has cause me so much pain; I don’t know if I will ever live the life that I was destined to live, other than the life that has caused me so much pain and misery.
Sometimes I feel like a clown sailing between the clouds, moving from cities to town, avenues and streets singing songs of yesterday while I watch the people go astray and the clock keeps ticking away.
I have orbit the globe more than a hundred times, searching for something that is on my mind. I think about it from time to time and I just cannot erase it from my mind. Shall I wait for you here or shall I wait at another place, I have waited here from sunrise to sun down and still you have not come around, I no number to call or the address for the city hall, I will let nature follow the course and when the time I will go through the door and hold destiny by its hand.
I thought we had an understanding of a mutual deal in the making and the binding contract that cannot be broken, why am I still here waiting; there must have been some misunderstanding, if you listen carefully you can hear the musical strings singing they are in perfect harmony.
I will force myself from underneath the clouds and go out and buy some new clothes and change the place where I stay for a new promotion is coming my way. I will wait for a few more days and if you don’t come I will go my own way and I hope that we will cross path someday.
She was sold for three trillion dollars.
I love to travel anywhere, the more foreign the better for me,
Strange lands and how other people live is very interesting to see.
This travel bug I caught got started when I was only eighteen years old,
A college friend and I went to the Bahamas, we were fearless and so bold.
Then I started my career and I knew to take advantage of this time,
Each year I’d set off somewhere new, after saving my every dime.
I traveled to beautiful Hawaii followed by South America the next year,
One of my favourites was Bermuda, I was young, memories so dear.
I flew over to England and stayed for a fortnight to visit a new friend,
We toured all around Scotland traveling as far north as Land’s end.
After that I spent a lot of time in the Caribbean, the trips become a blur,
Many islands look the same, palm trees and beaches, others will concur.
Mexico was interesting studying the Mayans from Chichen Itza to Tulum,
Manzanillo to Puerto Vallarta, high cliffs where the waves crash and loom,
Got engaged in Myrtle Beach, so it holds a special place in my heart,
Then honeymooned in Jamaica where we spent not a moment apart.
Once the children came along, the travel plans required a major adjust,
We would go away on 5 year anniversaries, this was an absolute must.
A Caribbean five island cruise then the next trip two weeks in New Zealand,
But my favourite place remains the Greek islands, windmills, sun and sand.
Liechtenstein, Austria and Switzerland was a mother-daughter trip,
I showed her the ropes of travel and how much to leave for a tip.
Seems this travel bug of mine has proved to be a little bit contagious
My daughter now loves travel but her destinations are more outrageous.
While traveling is usually an educational journey, one that I just adore,
I’ve had moments in Egypt and the Holy land, that chilled me to the core.
But even during these very scary times, one thing that stands forever true,
The people there were kind and caring, someone always willing to help you.
I think that I still have a few more trips left in me, if my pocket book holds out,
Need to see eastern Europe, China and Africa, there’s more to learn, no doubt.
For the meeting of new people and learning their culture, gives my life new lease,
It provides the burden of proof that all should know, we need to work for peace.
Written by Lee Ramage
For Contest "Close your eyes and click your heels"
ONE100eight
ONE100eight
CharlaXFabels
www.three
SUN TRAN history
Passenger Pigeons carry messages to people entrenched at
www.wwone/ditched in doughboy britches wearing Army boots of wool
August 3, 1914 special free edition of the BerlinTageblatt announces "The War
with France” The Kaiser rolled away and fell from Germany the world is saved
they proclaim the war is over 1918
His hat was very black and ebon his vest hung down in back front was cut in
western sling style his hair was off white gray an old gunslinger out of old
Tucson days. He took a transfer out of his pants pocket and tried to slide it in the
bus to make it work but the driver had turned it off to see his face light up he had
been caught for this was the very first bus. NO the driver said simply with a smile
that will not work and left it at that and up to him he did not frown but added the
dollar paid the money for the fare the first time not again his bogus attempt at a
free ride had failed. He took his transfer paid he learned his western lesson
there the driver being kind and understanding could have been demanding that
he leave the bus and March 24, 2008 has come the carrier pigeons are taking
messages to www.wwtwo.com the war is over Hitler dead go home and live
without a gun without a dread. She simply simpered she opened up her bag a
purse no doubt without a dime or dollar amount inside her friend paid for hisself
one dollar kept the transfer in his hand she kept repeating to herself for all the
crowd to understand eye left the wallet with the money in it at home the wallet MY
wallet is NOT in this bag it has been left at home the man he seemed astonied
when she said in certain tones did you get a pass for me NO he said don't you
remember my pass and your pass is both in your wallet left at home the driver
moaned a bit but let her be she let them ride he said eye gave to you my pass to
keep for me she said so sad MY WALLET is NOT in this bag it is left behind at
home IT'S EVERYTHING the carrier pigeon flew with messages to the troop in
the trenchment ditch at www.worldwarthree.com/apocolypse
The message simply said
we airmailed
every missle
that we have
to hit the enemy
the world is over now
do not try to do anything
just pray
we are all going to see
JESUS
NOW
TODAY
chester sat in the second row
every day at his school
no one asked, no one knows
but yet the kids were cruel
Ms. Jenny had a simple task
to teach by the book
but chester never seem to pass
so she took a deeper look
his momma died with little sign
he only had rags to wear
for daddy worked at the five and dime
with no money left to spare
at christmas in the classroom
what pretty gifts they gave her
chester found his mom's perfume
and wrapped it in toilet paper
the bottle wasn't full its true
her heart just couldn't believe
but chester smiled, because he knew
it was the best Ms. Jenny recieved
days went by and Ms. Jenny tried
to come up with a clue
and many nights she sat and cried
she knew what she had to do
after school she took the time
to teach him life is tough
that he could be God's best design
if he applied himself enough
years went by and things got better
than they ever were before
Ms. Jenny found a special note
slipped under her classroom door
"thank you for the faith you gave
when my life was dark and sad
I told my mother at her grave
your the best teacher i ever had"
As the tears streamed down her face
Ms. Jenny already knew
that showing love could not replace
what the books in school teach you
years went by and things still better
than they ever were before
Ms. Jenny found another note
slipped under her classroom door
"I'm getting married to this girl, you see
somehow I know you'd care
please come and sit where my mother can't be
I know she'd want you there"
The day arrived, the crowd was set
as chester paced the floor
and then a sight he'll never forget
when Ms. Jenny walked through the door
her simple smell filled the room
a fragrance like no other
chester was the proudest groom
to see his "stand in" mother
it was never easy to understand
the steps we all should trace
but Ms. Jenny knew this young man
had finally found his place
so much time she gave in tears
encouragement that made him strong
but time is limited on earth by years
and now Ms. Jenny is gone
before they closed the casket he cried
then on the pillow by her head
one final note he left inside
and this is what it said
"God sent you here to rescue me
from a life that was doomed and sad
and though I'll miss you terribly
you were the best teacher I ever had".
Written by: sharlett lamb
Form:
Here I am standing on the milky way hoping that someone would come my way, I have been here for a thousand years with millions of stars stuffed up into my guts and the solar system with is unwinding rhythm orbiting the galaxy in the center of the mass and the dark matter is running around the town in a brand-new set of gowns.
Where they come from, I don’t know, but they are about to start a brand-new show; they are wearing alien skirts and blouse made out of purified dirt.
I see them coming in droves they are parachuting through the clouds, they are acting as if they have no feeling, and they are coming at a speed that will smash up your zeal and turn the planet into ashes and dirt.
The planet is running around with the sun and the mission is not yet done you have to go back in space and tie up the loose ends that are hanging from the heavens; they are three thousand light years away and they cannot connect with the beam to release the clogged-up steam.
The galaxies is sending a message to you, you must organize another mission in the sky to find the point before the beam dies; it will plunge the earth into darkness for a thousand years and the plants would die, and nothing will pass through the sky.
The galaxy is of three main types, and you have got to separate the spirals galaxy from the irregular's galaxy and the elliptical galaxy before the universe move.
You have to arrange another trip with Russia, Japan, China, India and America with Britain and Germany at the tip. You have to examine what is going on up there because I am seeing some strange image that is causing me to fear, is it digital manipulation or is its political frustration, whatever it is, it frightens every living creature to its core, and you have to keep asking for more.
Touch me if you can see me, touch me if you feel me. I don’t have to see the movement of your hands; I only have to feel the courage in your soul and the fire from the sun engraved in the center of your hand.
It can scan through any door and take you to the upper floor, this is my latest invention, and it can take me straight up to the sky without a nickel or dime.
Touch me if you can feel me, touch me and pass the energy around, touch me with the tip of your fingers and your long-awaited dreams will come through; just touch me and the universe will open the big door for you.
As I walk the dirty streets, I look into a crack head eyes,
as she look's up at with surprise.
Knowing I got what it takes to supply them dimes!
She has her high beam's on, and a crack pipe in her palms.
she has no time to speak, as she crosses the street.
I'm her pusher man!
That keeps the past, in the past.
She beg's me for a hit, with her cracked white lips. She say's she needs a dime,
for it's her last time, knowing it's lie just to get high.
As I smile in her face, with a look of disgrace, for I'm the pusher...
I know to never let the street's get to you.
I alway's know rule number two...Never smoke from your own supply!
Rule number ten,... All rule's apply!
I'm your pusher man...
All these other rules, from one thur nine, is for only real niggas that put in time!
Never be weak for the drug's you seek, for she knows what she needs.
She really has no need to plead, what ever she needs, I'm pleased.
For her money is coming to me! If she only knew I was taking her life.
Everything she has, or ever treasured, from her husbend, to a straight dike!
She needs me for I'm here to please. With out an "us"... they'll be no "we"!
She'll give up her home and, her family, she'll never go to far,
I'm her pusher man!
I'll make her dreams a reality!
To reconcile, to feel all she needs is me! I'm the prophecy, she'll live in poverty,
talking with profanity. Selling her big screen to me!
I'm her pusher man. I make her happy when shes sad,
I can get her higher than a kite, she'll be in the streets all night!
Her family wouldn't see her in weeks, her home, was with me!
No need to eat, drugs was the beef!
I'm her pusher man!
She'll rob her mom, just to get her high on.
She'll steal from the police, If she see me in the street's!
I'm her mom, I'm her dad, Im' her everything she had,
I'm her pusher man!
She keeps me richer, my pockets stay thicker!
She loves me more than she loves her self... because the crack, is what it's really all about! I'm her pusher man!
I am what I am, I give what I can!
From the suburbs from, the hoodest of all hoods! I stay with the goods!
I'm her pusher man...
The streets will be watching everthing you do, and one day they might come for you!
For I'm... your pusher man!
Accursed human species
case in point Vladimir Putin,
who strikes terror across globe.
Don't underestimate his hell bent
zeal to attack United States,
one blood sucking infernal
predacious *****sapien
mercilessly bullies, interrogates,
threatens... with zeal.
Considerably less mortifying
constitutes wrathful ordeals
exhibited by adults who treat
thine wife with indecorous jibes
like punks who sat back of bus
or classmates at Methacton
High School, mine alma mater.
No different than typical mean kids
many crotchety residents here
Highland Manor Apartments
majority residents aggrieve the missus
though said counterpart (thee spouse)
exudes standoffish poise
countenance dons and
nonverbally trumpets scowl
body language broadcasts
social graces be damned
easily interpreted as snub
engendering hostile imprecations
cruelly fiendish provocations
undermine capacity to experience
peace of mind
exacerbated by her
figurative cold shoulder
propensity to flip the bird
notched, ratcheted, torqued... tension
courtesy miss prissy heiress,
daughter, she secured management role
albeit (hats off) to nepotism
guarantees lifelong job security
issued thee missus warning
rental stipulation disallows
overt middle finger flashing signal
emotional entanglement ensued
yours truly tasked
to pursue more favorable environment,
yet scant finances (mine)
and poor credit
two strikes against
locating affordable living situation
since sole family income
social security disability
direct deposited monthly
buzzfeeding checking account
regularly near anorexic,
cuz additionally I pay
costs of living expenses
cole king avoiding being homeless,
thus this penniless
among dime a dozen
day late dollar short
low income bracketed
(marching with madness)
mister casts quandary
couched as poetry,
no great expectations,
nonetheless cathartic to communicate
(hoop fully understandable)
present tense plight
projected as plotted trend
fat and/or slim chance
fate will curse me as lottery winner
pipe dream teasing
this word plumber flush with ire,
who feels nsync and drained
scraping hand to mouth
bemoaning apathy, dismal
effort, gross indifference
toward self sums (mein kampf)
plus academic struggles
proffers grim forecast
as coxswain at mercy
rudderless ship of state
edges closer to his waterloo.
I watch for her after midnight's twelve strokes,
often thinking how life likes to play cruel jokes.
Stilettos clicked on pavers as she walked
a nod on the stairs, but we'd never talked.
Eyes smudged with black liner, like bars on a cell,
She always returns looking like she's been through hell.
I knew her name was Lucy. I heard him yell at her last night.
She trembled past me in the hallway, teary eyes full of fright.
Midnight lady, short skirts, and pouting ruby lips,
street corners for an office as she swings her hips.
I saw her in the morning light when she walked out the door.
Fresh face, pink cheeks scrubbed clean, and nothing more.
In jeans and baggy t-shirt, she looked like an innocent child,
not the kind of woman who got paid to drive men wild.
Lucy - if I tried to rescue you what would you think of that?
Would you have to worry about the guy who wears the fancy hat?
No one can own another, so I'd like to make an offer to you.
I'll buy you a ticket to anywhere if you tell me you're through.
I'm just a stranger, but I know who and what you are...
too young and beautiful to live a life that's so bizarre.
I've never gotten over how guilty it made me feel
for living that life while pretending nothing was real.
I'm offering you the way to get out the mess you're in,
a life of danger, a tangled web of emotional sin.
Dear Lucy,
I'm leaving this note and money under your door
because I don't wanna see you around here anymore.
I wish someone had given me the chance to be free
then maybe I could forgive myself for what I used to be.
You don't know who I am, and it really doesn't matter.
My name once was Lucy, before I was bruised and battered.
Long ago I had a daughter that I was forced to give away.
I'll regret the choice I made until my breath fades away.
Signed: Someone who cares
Someone who dares
I prayed this Lucy was not the daughter I had born.
In her faded jeans and baggy t-shirt she had worn,
I watched her walk away with all she owned flung over her shoulder.
I knew she'd have a better life than I had by the time she was older.
As a tree, my limbs are broken and brittle. My life not worth a dime.
But if she is my fallen apple, out of the gutter I must help her climb.