Long Dirt Poems
Long Dirt Poems. Below are the most popular long Dirt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dirt poems by poem length and keyword.
The setting for this poem takes place inside the school gymnasium.
It is a nice fall day, the sun is shining and kids are playing out on
the soccer field. The door from the gym going outside is open, and
there is laughter in the air. Everything seems bright and cheery so
early in the morning, but for one person - this is not the case. Here ya go :
The Day We Met
One day I was lonely and feelin' like dirt,
And oh, it really, really hurt.
It hurt so much - I began to cry,
When up walked a girl, and she said "Hi".
"You should be out having some fun."
I said, "Oh, my head, feels like it weighs a ton!"
Then she seen my big frown,
And next to me - she did sit down.
She said, "Won't you tell me about your story?"
I said, "Ok, but there's not much glory."
So we talked just a little while,
And my frown turned to a smile!
Well I no longer felt like a fool,
But now it was time to go to school.
She said, "I hope we'll meet again."
I said, "Yes we will, 'cause you're my friend!"
We met after classes, and at lunch;
Just talking with her really helped me a bunch.
We even met at the mall,
And each other we did call!
Just being with her - I'll never forget,
And I'll always remember the day we met.
Robert Allison
Gaia embraces the root network of the world’s fleshiest trees
sand, stone, clay and black dirt swirl around her ancient core
gemstones of emerald, opal and topaz lie dormant
oceans figure out a place to sit on her lap
volcanoes and wind tunnels announce
fire and ice make room for themselves
Gaia reorganizes the elements and elementals
her feminine power welcomes them with open psyche
watching oaks, willows, elms, hickories and maples are validated
as are radishes, carrots, corn, beets, apples, pears and peaches
she selects none over another
robins, cardinals, butterflies, and dragonflies appear
the goddesses of the overworld cheer
She is 15 months old…this beautiful little squirt
she likes nothing more than walking barefoot everywhere
and playing in the dirt.
In fact she loves dirt so much…(her parents tell us with a moan)
they believe she thinks dirt is a food group all its own.
I love to watch her play…in her world both simple and complex
because you never know exactly where her feet will take her next.
While watching the purity and innocence in one so young and new
I’m reminded of the things I did as a child…that I can no longer do.
How I walked barefoot everywhere when I was just a little squirt
How, while playing outside, I also ate my share of dirt.
How I could laugh at noises…or something silly my parents said
How I could start singing and dancing
listening only the music in my head.
How I loved to run and run and run…loved finger paints and art
How in the store I liked nothing better than riding in the grocery cart.
How I would point and grunt and gesture before I had the power of speech
and I don’t remember but my parents have pictures…
of me running naked on the beach.
Of course I’m too old and I’d get arrested if today I ran naked on the beach
and I no longer need to point and grunt and gesture since I developed speech.
With bad knees I can’t run anymore…finger painting for me is a lost art
and I’m much too big for Deborah to push me in the grocery cart.
My parents are no longer alive so I can’t laugh at the silly things they say
HOWEVER… I can still dance and sing to the music in my head a little every day.
And I’m please to say now in my 70’s
some days I still feel like that little squirt…
and even though I’ve lost my taste for it…
I still love playing in the dirt.
7/29/18
All over the road, about to wreck
One of many causes for yet another death
Too many chickens giving each other pecks
They just look and rubberneck
Person overboard, from falling over the deck
Luckily they had on a life vest
No offense
I don't want to sit around and work behind a desk
Far from over yet
It's been one heck of a trek
I currently work at a vet
Helping take care of people's pets
With care and respect
Putting forth my best
Situations being assessed
During the quest
Making progress
Taking continual steps
Striving towards success
And nothing less
In order for it to manifest
Otherwise there'll be regrets
Like all the beer I buy and drink at my own expense
Knowing it can have harmful long-term effects
Taking occasional time to reflect
Great and not very well is how it went
I wasn't making a dent
Until my intent
Went to the furthest extent
And was one hundred and ten percent
I got more than I ever dreamt
Near and far from items made with hemp
On days and nights with a drop or rise in temp
Such a f***ing mess
What the corrupt have been doing is grotesque
I'm not going to repent
Or lament
Occasionally I disconnect
From the internet
Took off and left
Went camping, pitched a tent
Then took a rest
Somewhere out West
For time I'm pressed
I got to jet
From the dirt back to cement
Taking care of business, and running through a check
Zero time to focus on petty things, no bigger than a speck
Yes
I confess
I'm lonely, I guess
Now let's
See what happens next
God bless
When my time comes, in peace I'll rest
By: Dalton Ogletree
I sat on my driveway in the rain today,
wondering how I must look to the neighbors.
I'm allergic to grass and don't like dirt,
but I felt a yearning to commune
with nature. The driveway (common concrete)
seemed close enough to rock,
which is just pre-dirt, besides
it was getting drenched in the shower,
just like me.
In other words, I talked myself into this being
the same thing as a trail walk, or river swim,
or climbing like ivy up a groaning tree
because I'm here.
And without me, it makes no sound.
Someone else will have to speak
for those trees though—
right now it's just me and soaked cement
trying not to alarm AJ across the street,
peeking through hand-sewn curtains.
His wife doesn’t work.
He’s an arborist—
which I genuinely just remembered—
so maybe he can chat with the maple
in Renee’s yard next door,
beg it to reconsider its shedding ritual
until my husband fixes the leaf blower.
It may not matter.
The rain’s really coming down now—
there's lightning, which means thunder—
maybe even hail. This whole show
could likely to strip the old gal down
to her rough, brown skeleton.
I stay as long as I can, trying to discern
what I have in common with all of it.
I am no one
The man alone at the alter holding the wilting rose
I am no one
Trapped within this pain only God and i alone know.
I am no one.
Standing alone at the bus stop in pouring rain
i am no one
Waiting behind you i hear you slander my good name
I am no one
Who waits on hold for hours and hours
I am no one
Who keeps silent as you abuse your power
I am no one
The lost soul slipping through societies fragile cracks
I am no one
From this tormented mind theres just no coming back.
I am no one
The stranger who passes that you wont look in the eye
I am no one
The one you constantly reject and deny
I am no one
Buried deep beneath the unmarked grave
I am no one
Who died on foriegn dirt so freedom could be saved
I am no one.
Form:
Unseasonal
Leaves shuffle on their stems
fall onto ones which fell before
not yet a storm of Autumn tints
those will blaze in a month
these are an early shedding host
that leave before the cold appears
in months of heat and sweaty brows
what signal do they heed
still green among the fallen fruit
now turning into soft brown dirt
as fresh shoots spring into the light
rosebuds plump in April sun
no hint of cooler nights to come
our evenings set to dine outside
with singlet days of Summer skies
this pleasure now declines
too long, too wet, too hot we cry
as humans always must complain
the tropics stretching south to us
our discomfort metres rise
none can say we’ve time to burn
or urge us spin the wheel and wait
the dial is set for our demise
for life to build a kinder race.
The Republican Establishment
By Franklin Price
10/14/2016
The Republican establishment
Is a sorry sight to see
Their candidate for president
Is outspoken Donald T
He went through the selection
Came out above them all
Now many won't support him
They would rather see him fall
Did not have to let him run
If they did not want him there
He was voted by the people
Establishment just doesn't care
Who do the people think they are
They're about as dumb as dirt
Voting for a man who fondles
Women's breasts beneath their shirts
The fickle flock of red Repubs
When the Dems released this news
Denied the Trump almost at once
Did not want themselves to lose
Trump's too controversial
To take a chance on him
They know he must be guilty
For sure he's not a gem
They'll off their nose to spite their face
The Republican Party line
Will not admit they didn't vet him
But to deny him's more than fine
I give all
To one who owns all:
My Joy and
Hope, Strife and pain,
all do i
loan to him to
bear them on his wing,
Soaring through
the claws of the cloud,
Barging through,
Hailing the wind by
her name: que
que, que que
que que que
He says, magneting
to himself
the voice of
the wailing cloud,
Making it
Ooze sweat as
If scolded by the sun.
Measuring
the path of
the firmament.
Treading the
path of the dark
Vague maiden sitting
Opposite the vast
Universe.
On his way,
He meets the persian
Prince whom at
His word flee
like a bewitched
leopard. Nothing
stays him for
his word rinse the
dirt staining the
mood of the orb.
Bearing farther,
He met himself
laying my complaint
before himself.
Then a package
given in return,
Packaging
Confining
Adjusting
Replac ing,
Removing
Adding on
Bringing it
Closer and closer,
To sooth my
matter, heal my wound,
Bless my heart,
Cream my skin,
Take my case,
Make me praise,
Mending my sole,
Prune my grapes,
Feed my eyes,
Bless my life
Returning is he,
Nothing to hold
him Back. The
Oppositions
are now in
Dispositions.
The atmosphere
blows strange, all
air dressed range.
Success Shuddering
Towards my path.
Joy returning with
the climate:
The couple flowing,
Glowing, taking
with themselves
all that can serve
me right. The
Joy hastening
towards me,
waves around her,
weighing her out
of Balance.
Almost to the margin,
To set her feet
she staggers,
Almost to fall,
I: Mouth agape.
Will my Joy be stayed? :
Hatred behind her,
Striving to have
her pulled down,
Like a weak wall.
Almost falling
Is he, crawling now.
Hatred: almost catched
up. But woah!
A greater wave,
Stubborn than the
former, crippled the
former, had her
own a wheel chair.
And now whuuuh!
Crossed the margin,
Yea my Joy,
Bore by my king.
Welcomed home.
18: 01: 15: 14: 56
Why do we fight each other
Dear sisters and dear brothers
We all have different mothers
Yet we're all the same
We've become so divided
It has gotten hard to hide it
With no way to deny it
That we are all to blame
Some pull left while some pull right
Different as noon day and mid-night
The truth we search we've yet to find
Could we be too late
We must till the earth of this dirt
Free it from weeds of the hurt
From each other we can learn
If we listen more than say
Stop this bickering amongst each other
Dear sisters and dear brothers
Find common ground with each other
It's the only way we'll save the day