Long Disability Poems
Long Disability Poems. Below are the most popular long Disability by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disability poems by poem length and keyword.
I have a disability I’ve had my whole life long.
My memory disappears whenever things go wrong,
My first memory was wondering where and who on earth was I.
And who were all the people that I did espy,
When we moved to our first house, it struck me yet again.
Thank goodness my brother came along on his bike just then.
My mother came outside, and looked familiar so I followed her within.
I actually thought that I was normal, when I was very small.
They took my hand when I went out, so it mattered not at all.
Ingrained habits kept me in the yard, with my friends, and at their knee.
I was such a quiet thoughtful child, they were happy to let me be.
Who am I and where am I, became my quiet refrain.
But I didn’t worry because they always there to call my name.
My parents never caught on, no not once, never at all…
I actually acted like everyone else when I was very small.
I looked normal to others so alone I had to carry on.
Then I went to ballet class, I studied so very hard… for oh so long.
The day of the recital I lost it all in front all where I wanted to belong.
My mother thought it stage fright, and finally took me from the throng.
What good was it doing, she thought, if I did not want to learn the dance?
And then I realized to live my life I’d have to work hard for every chance.
And if I had an argument with a friend, it was over oh so fast.
For the stress made me forget and my life became recast.
So if they didn’t come around for a while I didn’t really care.
Because I would soon forget they had ever even been there.
Eventually they would come back and my memory would come back.
Then off we’d go to play again as I studied how to avoid another attack.
When asked what I wanted to play, I’d smile at them you see…
And they’d be happy as I said, “whatever you want is ok with me.”
But do not think to pity me for my stubbornness is truly limitless.
After 12 and ½ years in college… I became for 30 years, a true Chemist.
I raised a son and held my own in a world that couldn’t understand me.
But with all those bouts of confusion the world still became my cup of tea.
Quiet, stubborn, hiding my pain, and with lots of daily notes…
Lots of time spent studying ways around my problems, I would devote…
My family had no pity, just the charge to get out there with mankind.
And here I am successful at 58, now with poetry on my mind.
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.
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 went to two schools in reality,
But only had one in my mind,
A school that assimilated and understood,
A school that would not drive me blind.
Daniels nursery was the best,
In all ways apart from one,
Because it accepted my difference,
Respected my pensive hum.
But they didn’t provide facilities,
For my disability, loud and many times proud;
Sometimes I needed just to talk it over,
‘Cos my disability was not a shroud.
But I came top in both alphabet and numbers,
The private Edinburgh school was not above me,
And I managed to carve some friendships,
That were a delight to see.
But since they didn’t provide facilities,
It was decided I would leave for another,
For my future primary education,
Where my disability would not be such my master.
So I moved to a special school, Graysmill,
Which asserted my normality fine,
But they saw my clever mind as my parents credibility,
And so for Daniels I would pine.
I felt so much loved by Daniels headmaster,
Who took me aside initially and asked,
If I was happy and alright inside,
And so my reality I never masked.
I questioned him, “Do I have to believe in god?”
And he replied lovingly and tenderly,
“No Rhoda, you don’t have to believe in god,”
So I was relieved and had hope for future longevity.
So in daily assembly when I just thought my own thoughts,
Contemplated and pondered quietly to myself,
He smiled at me once ‘cos he knew what I was doing,
That bold, quick-witted atheistic elf.
But when I got to Graysmill as a new pupil,
They thought their framework for me was the best,
And tried to beget me with Christianity,
Ramifying my parents traditional morality chest.
After about eight months of hardship,
I realised they did not understand as well,
My real disability and proposition,
Which would take them some way further.
They were so uncaring at times,
Forceful, heartless and cold,
Lacking the relationships,
Upon which I could hold.
They assumed I'd not liked Daniels,
And empathised with me about it,
Insisted I'd not taken to integration,
That along side me they did sit.
There should’ve been that middle ground,
That state school with creative gumption,
So that my worldview was never found,
Lacking, with myself in need of instruction.
You got hit with a earthquake
Not once but twice
Because of your ugly hearts
But yet y'all still violating
How much more shame do you need
For you to get it.
Father dare
I'm a grown woman of 44. You don't run my life I do.
You couldn't even be a proper father doing my youth.
You not a god but a loose clues.
You got your citizens ship. Now you assume you're a American.
But don't forget it comes with a expiration date. You still a piece of sht. Just like back then.
Sister dare
My son doesn't need no advice from you
You can't even be a mother to your own daughter. Like your whre Best friend.
My son already have a mother to be his guide. And that's me.
So instead of packing up tattoos on your body like a freak.
Why don't you used that money and pay up your child support to the baby father instead.
stop minding your business out of my life and son.
And keep in mind she's not my daughter. I could give 2fck about her(Ariel).
My son father
You think you good at cheating.
I know all your dirty secret.
That's why I turned you into Pinocchio that defines you.
You're a manipulator and a liar.
Keep in mind action and evidence speak louder than words of your lies.
I don't miss you, my son feel the same as well.
I didn't forget the huge scar you did a cross my son face when he was 3.
You claim he fell we both know it's a lie. For your a constant liar.
Keep in mind how sensitive I am when it comes to him.
For I'm like the apocalypse. I will scar you whole world. And that's how I get even.
Mother dare
Don't think I forget about you
Just because I get along with you doesn't mean I forgive you
I appreciate you confess your sin that my brother peter disability was attentionally done by you before his death.
You go around giving birth to children to take advantage of them and abandoned them like a true whre.
One of your daughters got molested instead of comfort. You abandoned her for the men who molested her.
Sherley and Rashida no longer live with you no more, for you're still a terrible mother.
I can see through you like a book and your secret attention towards us.
You no different from my father . Two pieces a sht that deserved each other.
I know at 16 I wanted to know who you where. I don't regret it.
Cause at least I know you are one of my father whres.
Memory houses soul asylum vestige...
where complex edifice once anchoring
venerated Glen Elm demesne once stood,
now nothing except vinyl city!
I recall breathtaking, expansive, incredible
numerous, tremblingly awe inspiring views
billion miles (slight exaggeration) heavenly
sights comfortably ensconced, while perched
high atop sadly long since demolished complex
edifice anchoring Glen Elm demesne – summer
mansion property captain Leiper (circa early
nineteen hundreds) more'n century ago once
encompassing hundred plus acres whittled to
approximately 2.42811 hectares upon purchase
February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight by
papa Boyce Brandon Harris, insync with help
courtesy paternal grandpa Aaron Harris, the
former who invested blood, sweat and tears,
when not yoked, tethered, obligated... to
incumbent duties consonant with assignments
linkedin, when gainfully employed as top notch
mechanical engineer at General Electric, he
slaved away gentrifying neglected fixer upper
(matter of fact single handedly reshingled roof)
that same exterior hideaway offering solace
against imprecation, ostracization, ultimatum...
damnation, humiliation, laceration, (albeit verbal
lashing against yours truly), when exhibiting no
motivation to work (courtesy thank debilitating,
immobilizing, paralyzing anxiety/panic attacks),
now though still plagued with same understood
as congenital (possibly in utero) malady, yes an
abominable, execrable, implacable..., nemesis
which unpleasant memories haunt me even to
this day, whereby nothing but utter failure cast
dark shadows analogous to edge of night oft
times accompanied with suicidal ideations,
whereat damned, continually bereft, abysmal
bereft legacy testimony marginally functioning
as the token "scapegoat" throughout twelve
torturous years yielding absolute zero aptitude
unable to comprehend, (I strongly suspect die
hug noses along high functioning autistic
spectrum - case in point youngest of two sweet
progeny (both daughters) afflicted with yepper
aforementioned cognitive learning disability,
she benefited social services since birth, and
can attest to much more positive academic,
and socialization endeavors well on her way
living clear and free empowered at twenty
orbitz round the earth.
Americans, Algerians, Australian aborigines,
Corrupt leaders of the world involved in illegal activities.
Bloodthirsty bullies brazenly bombing bystanders,
Militaries full of corrupt army commanders.
Charities for children, carers in communities,
Third world countries deprived of equal opportunities.
Doctors, dentists, drugs, disability and depression,
An angry generation full of negative aggression.
Evil egotistic eejits entering elections,
Profiteering politicians with the right connections.
Foul mouthed fools fighting over fossil fuels,
Crooked government clowns creating their own rules.
Greedy gangs gambling, goons glamorising globalisation,
A sad and unfair planet, full of frustration.
History of horrific holocausts, hate crimes, hard times,
Skull and bones, secret societies, illuminati hand signs.
Isolation, intimidation, immigration, inaccurate information,
Hiroshima and Nagasaki still suffer from radiation.
Judge and jury, jam-packed jail cells,
Relentless rebels not doing it for the medals.
Kalashnikov culture, killers keep killing,
The reality of climate change is extremely chilling.
Lame loud mouthed liars living in luxury,
Corrupt politicians should be in custody.
Microchips, machine guns, military madness in the Middle East,
The rich get richer while homelessness continues to increase.
NASA, NATO, new world order, negative nonsense,
Celebrating Columbus Day, do they have any conscience?
Outrageous organisations occupying oil fields,
Double dealing leaders involved in shady deals.
Pitiful pessimists publishing pointless propaganda,
While aids and malaria increases in Uganda.
Quality over quantity or quantity over quality,
An overused phrase that’s used too commonly.
Radicals rallying, ready for revolution,
Air, water, soil and radioactive pollution.
Sick, sadistic sinners selfishly selling slaves,
Fredrick Douglass must be turning in his grave.
Terrible terrorists taking over territories,
Religious beliefs still creating enemies.
Unconscious unkind useless United Nations,
CNN plus Fox News equals bias news stations.
Various victims viciously victimised,
Deadly missiles falling from the skies.
Wars, weapons, whistles blowers on the World Wide Web,
While others sell their souls just to become a celeb.
It was several years ago. How many, I don't rightly know.
I really should have documented the day. Perhaps it would
have been better to do it that way. How can I best describe what I really want to say?
It's about something for which I decided to pray.
I needed "time" to achieve certain goals in my life.
I needed "time" to tell, to share my journey, my flight.
I wanted to share love to help wipe away so many tears.
So I asked the Lord to give me a life of one hundred years.
Later, I also suggested that I would revisit the matter in 2049
for the purpose of, who knows; maybe to request more time?
Still later, I revisited my prayer with a second amendment.
I considered such matters of disability in the "health department".
I said, "Lord, I need more than longevity, but also a life of quality". I was so grateful that God understood and was aware of such reality.
So I'm having the time of my life, just loving and writing about my God,
my wife, my family, my church, my friends, my country, my world, my life; about nature, and about ................
08132013cjFBPS
Nature made convenient sluice,
when pool water did wend
down the gentle slope
describing gargantuan wetsuit vend
er steadily chugging, chiseling,
and channeling straight away
blindly coursing upend
ding (mankind imposed)
property boundaries demarcations tend
with futile diligence,
asper the whimsical barenaked lady's
propensities, viz mother nature
made short shrift send
ding hours of surveyor labor down
into the behavioral sink also rend
ding inhabitants within the flood plain
to vacate premises and return,
when storm didst abate
comically shaking angry fist
at darkening non sheltering sky -
faux imitating to berate
meteorological processes
many complex systems create
the downpour seemingly
appearing (to me) rainier date
then years gone by scattershot memories,
(which figurative, somewhat unreliable
yardstick of boyhood) did equate
climate affecting
Southeastern Montgomery, Pennsylvania,
registering *****sapiens ultimate fate
burgeoning population, which impact great enough
for this lix spittle country bumpkin to ejaculate
(not prematurely) Hawaii hate
to reckon my environmental impact doth irritate
fragile ecosystems, and
holistic lifestyle aye would trade
(hint...mebbe ya know
of eco-centric intentional communities)
even (yes absolutely)
necessitating sweat of brow spade
work agreeable to this sometime joker
renting from management Grosse and Quade,
who primarily bolster increasing monies to get paid,
perhaps partnership incorporates hiring maid
service for their own households,
no doubt beds get properly made
yet, this regular John Doe (dependent on
social security disability because
debilitating panic attacks undermined
ability to function found (yours truly) laid
up (prior to acquiescing strong suggestions
to accept prescription medication), where grade
to cope much less steep, plus un huff frayed,
now rowing tha old skiff to destination
for to long not fostered and delayed
(christened matthew scott harris) to feign charade
nod duh so merrily lee down the time stream.
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat
Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare ass tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.
Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being
beat into bloody pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully
delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice
witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.
Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus ho... ho... ho...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.