Long Doling Poems
Long Doling Poems. Below are the most popular long Doling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doling poems by poem length and keyword.
List form also in rhyming couplets:
Love is patience one has with a difficult child.
Love is a man supporting his wife in her trials.
Love is a wife who remains “for better or worse.”
Love’s not just doling dollars out from your purse.
Love is giving aid and time for someone that’s in need.
Love is not words alone; it’s doing a good deed.
Love is a hug for someone crabby or sad.
Love is holding your tongue when someone treats you bad.
Love is not for just your own sister and brother.
Love is for all. God says, “Love one another.”
Love is showing kindness everywhere you can.
Love is forgiveness – even of a really bad man!
Love is not easy when others do you wrong.
Love is showing compassion all day long.
Love is not saying, “I’d do it if I could.”
Love is in saying, “I’ll do it, and I’ll do it good.”
Love is not just for the one whom you adore.
Love is for everyone and so much more.
Love is what would change wrong things to right.
Love is what would change our darkness into light.
August 21, 2022 for the Meaning of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Pigeons Out Of Place
Pigeons, sit on cold bronze heads
Relieve themselves all day and night for spite
Fallen soldiers have no say, they are dead
Dirty birdies on branches don’t look right
They belong on buildings, rusted statues
Cold soldiers are toilets on scheduled flights
Among the people in their human view
Sitting on the park bench doling out bread
Man yawns, while birds bob heads when they are through
All of God’s good creatures need to be fed
Even filthy pigeons that tarnish things
When food is finished, parties head for bed
In the morning the birds of nature sing
Pigeons decorate bronze soldiers like kings
Created on 9/08/14 for Terza Rima (About anything you like) Poetry Contest
Lemme titillate thee
regarding myself daily soldiering thru breastworks
read out loud to experience where dangerfield lurks
twenty five years a husband unknown marital perks
bachelorhood to die for, cuz warp and weft
courtesy webbed and wedded bliss
incorporates life threatening quirks.
Hazardous beyond belief
analogous crossing a landmine good grief
ensnared yours truly mistaken for Baghdad thief.
Impossible mission to step up pace
when ambling one room to another
footfalls of generic guy approximating brisk,
cuz one misstep could find me flat on back
with damaged spinal disc
worse fate than experiencing
strong arms of law reach out his hands that frisk
old meister wordsmith
merely ventures innocent risk,
yet may as well surrender self to Taliban,
who would willingly whisk
Garden variety Caucasian American bloke
afraid to tread amidst belongings strewn
pell mell outranking rating tornado 5 courtesy
enhanced Fujita Scale
whereat Good Housekeeping ostracized spouse.
As precautionary safeguard, I carry amulet
to ward off ill luck toward life and limb you bet,
especially when gingerly
taking one step after another with lights turned off
owing steadfastness to prayerful debt
intoned toward guardian angel to get
self groping in dark without bifocals
envisioning severely myopic
(blind as a bat generic guy
without spectacles) met
bedded objective where
menagerie of stuffed animals
(albeit Woodstock favorite pseudo pet),
which aforementioned Peanuts character
called warm fuzzy as sobriquet.
The missus bursts out laughing,
whom I damnably scoff at and berate
as I trip head over heels
cursing said spouse ever since first date
at Tex-Mex restaurant
in North Wales, Pennsylvania,
a gut level intuitive sense -
even then our sealed fate
cursed analogously crashing thru Hades gate
antagonistic altercations in actuality
displaced suppressed anger toward parents,
which father and mother (both deceased)
their sole son of did hate
for afflicting psychological trauma
regarding them furiously irate
doling out ultimatums
interestingly enough comfort found
within company of loving mate,
she weaseled compassion
evidenced by poetic prattle I prate,
whereat ye can (of course) highly rate
feedback I eagerly await.
‘When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.’ - Lauren Eden
lilies and ravens
dance together making mud puddles
thick as salve caked on deep wounds
stemming not the ooze
tinctures from droppers
bitter herbs labeled for survival
use only as directed
replenish nothing
rancid birthday cakes
gleeful candles form dancing shadows
glassy story-telling eyes
yearn desperately
gleaming steel knives slice
neat little rows across the table
the sacrificial altar
where naked I lay
ignorant children
don't see the bullies in their own homes
doling birthrights like feed for
ravens and lilies
Written 8 April 2025
For the contest Light or Shadows hosted by Suzette Richards
Twas the night before Christmas - came like a flash,
Mob of gingerbread reindeer prodding elves for cache.
The Clausman reigning, doling out orders this stint.
Lady of his, keeps his tongue supplied with peppermints.
The vainglorious list of children, like snow through the Pole,
Now hides in the cloud - smart tablet tabulates toys or coal.
Head of the snowmen, cold and wise, supply the twinkle
To Santa’s eyes. Green-elves polish his boots, unwrinkle
The fat man’s caboose, untangle the reins, ready the ride.
The lineup from A to Z better well shine or it’ll be their hide.
All is still as the stars light up the path until Santa hops
Down, creates sinkholes in the snow with flatulence, flops
Into the overstuffed sleigh, jolly and jingling, creating pain
For the svelte and prideful eight who sail gift cargo like a plane.
Twas Christmas Eve and children around the world wait,
For the jingle and jangle of the sleigh-bed to find out their fate.
Tired, the sharp-suited Santa, now enters by window or door,
A small finder’s fee for each elf who steals a key - keeps score.
This year dear Santa abhors the cookies, milk, and snores.
The liquor cabinet habit keeps him warm, loving kids to the core.
Even when both parents and all the kids deserve some coal,
He’ll ignore the rules, with a good whisky or rum (takes its toll)
The reindeer left the last house hastily, and onward they speed,
As lightning sears the sky but jolly old saint Nick is teed-
Off, for he was found sleeping on the floor, by a kid. Now he shops
For a good Santa Claus lawyer. Who doesn’t toy around? The cops.
On Christmas day he is one of many dressed in black and white.
All say they’re the real Santa. He snatches beards, ready to fight.
Mrs. Claus makes him retire after his cheerless reflection.
The head elf ready to update the store in a whole new direction.
She puts the sleigh to bed, the deer no longer on loan,
Fires up the internet, next year she will send out drones.
11/27/2019
The Night Before 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Pleasantly radiant, tranquil weather
blue skies & gently benevolent wind
a shimmering gift from Mother Nature
(a smoldering summer lurking in the distance)
Compulsively tracking an unquantifiable self:
steps, exercise minutes, calories, symptoms, etc.
stoical statistics dutifully logged into tired devices
(a futile endeavor to control life)
Cacophonous news oozing from the Malverse
menacing memes ricochet around the planet
updates of a horrid war threatening to devour the world
(a looming nuclear apocalypse)
Occupying space in old unedifying edifices gathering dark energy
running out the accelerating clock as civilization nears its breaking point
desperately seeking diversion while doling out doggerel
(a quest to imbue a desolate existence with meaning)
How long before it all falls apart?
The Corona Virus is in town
Our schools have promptly shut down.
We are sending packets to each child.
They are rather daunting, nothing mild.
Two hundred pages are going out for each.
You know these kids are going to screech!
Children who sit in school for seven hours a day
And do not fill out more than a half a page, just play.
We are over confident down in the golden tower
Where the bigwigs sit and think up this stuff by the hour.
The A students will be excited; it will keep them busy a week.
The hundred and ninety-six others will not open them even a peek.
The Corona Virus is in town.
Our schools have promptly shut down.
We are sending these packets in an optimistic silly way.
Most will not be returned at all no matter what the day.
Volatile Hazardous Noxious Material...
Spews out the maw
bare n paws size of a bear
yes, him Donald Trump
with maniacal glare
gussied up as inane
name calling offensive
analogous to an overstuffed
ego freezing cold stare
putrid enfilade flatulence issuing
from his doughy derriere
smug with a smirk, the
Grinch would sleigh deer,
where aroma of venison
shish kabob filling the air
his degrading hashtagged lipped
puckered tripe packs a wallop
with palpable fear,
that such juvenile beast smear
ring will define opponents
like prey caught between crosshair,
especially worrisome trapping
vying potential presidential candidates
leaving socialist liberal
reputations in total disrepair
free doling "FAKE" infomercials
nary reducing status as bajillionaire
playing for keeps commander in chief
finagling constitution if necessary
apropos to mutineer
similar to GMO crafted by topnotch
University of Pennsylvania
(Whar torn) bioengineer
imprisoning protesters, who do not share
self indulgence dressed up as debonair
bigoted, egregiously impious buccaneer
running democracy into the ground
all the while erecting towering
complex edifices declare
ring dictatorial henchmen to commandeer
swaths of gerrymandered districts
population forced to puff their
light brown dyed
(in the wool) sprayed hair
groomed swiftly tailored harried flare
ring styled matching couture identical
to an emperor in new clothes,
i.e. essentially buck naked bare
as a newborn babe throwing tantrum
while strapped into
Taj Mahal sized high chair
that bestrides a golf course
encompassing the entire Northern hemisphere.
Pallbearers filled the bus
Off to funerals in an angry rush
It’s the wicked; they say who have no peace
That’s why the Pallbearers get their release
They chose to capture all these kind
Stifling fear often & following blind
Praising their maker for the coffee they get
For it keeps them alive and physically fit
Gravestones etched and set aside
For those of them who fought and died
I suggest we find away
To corral the ones who have been led astray
Our focal point has been defaced
By all the ones who claimed disgrace
Let’s satisfy their wants and greed
By doling out just what they need
When tyrannical freedom tries earning its place
It’s the Pallbearers who will be leading the chase
So, lock them again in their pristine sleeping cells
Then pray they don’t remember their path out of hell
There's a little old elf in our bathroom
His name is Mr. Reginald Stinky
He's a very sweet accommodating soul
When you need T.P. for your winky
He stands there patiently holding his nose
Sometimes the smell gets atrocious
Especially when the little kiddies need to go
They get messy and quite malodorous
It's a service Mr. Reginald Stinky provides
For the betterment of the environment
'Cause the T.P. he issues is chemical free
It's the latest government requirement
So three cheers for Mr. Reginald Stinky
A hero we should salute and admire
For providing T.P. and enriching the world
As you leave the bathroom inspired
© Jack Ellison 2013
Mr. Stinky is a ceramic elf patiently doling out
toilet paper for us in our hour of need!