Long Donor Poems
Long Donor Poems. Below are the most popular long Donor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Donor poems by poem length and keyword.
What does Father’s Day mean to you, sons and daughters? I was raised without a father. I don’t know how it feels to have a father, like so many children in America and around the world today. My wife and I had a son who died at birth. If he had lived, he would have been over 45 years plus. She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she thinks about it a lot. We also have two daughters who helped me to be a real father to them. With all of my mistakes, my daughters love me and I love them too. Both of them have finished college with their degrees. My older daughter has been in the military for many years and presently she is in the reserve and works in the medical field. My youngest daughter has an excellent position with Bloomberg News in New York, NY, and from a father’s point of view, doing great. I also have two adopted daughters and they are doing great also. They know I love them too. God has blessed them and they are a blessing to others, and that’s how it should always be. I am not writing this to make you sad or mad, nor to brag, but I am writing this to tell you father’s, step up to the plate and be a real father to your child. Any man can be a sperm donor (let's be real now), but it takes a real man to be a father. There are lots of responsibilities involved. He must be reliable and be a role model for his child. He must always take time out to teach them the right thing. A real father is strong, listens, suggests, and defends. He feels proud of the achievements his child makes, whether small or large. He is always there with a shoulder to cry on when things are right or wrong. I did not have an earthly father when I was growing up, but my Heavenly Father is always there when I call on Him. He says to trust in Him with all our hearts, leaning not to our own understanding, in all our ways acknowledge Him and He will direct our paths. That’s what Father’s Day is all about.
June 30 Scripture Meditations Based on Proverbs 23
Key Verse – Proverbs 23:17 Let not thine heart envy sinners; but be thou in the fear of the LORD all the day long.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR HIDING ME IN YOUR FEAR
Thank You for hiding me in Your fear’s righteousness
So I can be brave by Your holiness
Always valiantly fighting sinfulness
By Your empowering mightiness.
Thank You for hiding me in Your fear’s light
So I can be radiant by Your Word’s insight
Always confidently meeting You for prayer-plight
By Your inviting communion-delight.
Thank You for hiding me in Your fear’s fellowship
So I can be joyful in Your reaching-out friendship
Always gladly following Your caring leadership
By Your transforming workmanship of stewardship and partnership.
Thank You for hiding me in Your fear’s compassion
So I can be loving because of Your salvation
Always willingly sharing Your Gospel for others’ redemption
By Your enabling awesome motivation.
Thank You for hiding me in Your fear’s pardon
So I can be repentant around and within Your mercy’s cordon
Always gratefully praising You beyond forgiveness’ reason
By Your long suffering trait in every season.
Thank You for hiding me in Your fear’s honor
So I can be victorious through Your triumphant changing tenor
Always persistently pursuing for a Christ-like demeanor
By Your sanctifying conversion as my new life’s divine Donor.
June 30, 2022
I visited her grave today
Laid fresh flowers at the site
I stayed until the sun went down
And day turned into night
I thought about the accident
That prematurely ended her life
I never met this brave young girl
And wondered what she was like
All I knew about the loved one here
Was her name and the simple fact
That when she got her driver’s license
She signed the donor part on back
And now her heart beats inside me
A man she never knew
I illegally found out who you were
So I could come here to thank you
A simple act, to sign your name
May give life when yours does end
I am able to bring you flowers now
Because you saved my life, good friend
You have never called me step
I have always been your daughter
No one ever thought of me as a step in your family
Even though my mother married Daddy when I was two
I have always belonged to all of you
Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Petey
I forgot I was a step until some weirdo mentioned it
No one in our family because you would have never allowed that
I have always been your daughter, and you have always been Daddy.
I do not remember the first day I met you, for I have known you forever
We are as close as any daughter and Daddy could ever be.
I have no desire to meet my sperm donor; never think about him really.
You are the kind of man who understands family, who exudes love.
You are the kind of daddy every girl in the whole world would love to have.
I am so lucky that my sperm donor stepped out, and Mommy found you.
You are my real Daddy, Daddy. Always have been and always will be. I love you!
I'm losing myself on this one, they tell me they want that
old me back but I'm not even sure who he is, its hit &
miss obviously and how ironic is it? So exquisite, how
when it rains it pours these war wounds cut me
deep....I'm good at covering up my own truths so in the
end I'm subject to my own abuse, I need treatment from
me because to be honest that's why I'm single not
because it was them but it actually had everything to do
with me. The first step in rehab is acceptance and I
accept who I appear to be, a broken man internally so
that organ donor, that transfusion was necessary I can
see straight my vision is still blurry but I can't help it at
times when it comes to relationships I'm always in a
hurry even tho I rehearsed to myself be easy, fall back,
take it slow...but Im a cancer I wear my heart on my
sleeve I know but I can't and wont let that part of me go,
to myself I'm still the only one that I have yet to gain the
strength to say NO...
When we embrace success for the first time
When a child encounters her father after a long time
When a poor hungry boy nudges a food
When friends reminisce our old memories-good
When a dialysis patient gets the donor
When we become a house owner
When we take off our first journey
That too in our first salary
When butterfly from chrysalis finally flies
when we discern happy ending stories
When our friends behave sweeter than honey
When we realize it is not always money
There comes some esoteric sense of happiness
That is sometimess exposed through the happy tears
Every human deserves these happy tears
Atleast once in their lives,
For, it is the best solution for all their strives
And the sweetest tear that never hurts
A famous alumnus is visiting the university. I got an invitation several days ago to a small, socially distanced, masked, focus group. It was to be early on a Saturday morning - so, why not? I was excited to see her - I’m a fan.
We were a diverse group of about 20 (covid tested before admittance) students and I was in the back row. Seating was offset so everyone could see everything perfectly. I craned and swiveled, when her entourage came into the room. Then, there she was - I’m sure I was grinning ear to ear (behind my mask), we clapped, excitedly. She wore a navy business suit. A jacket over a black blouse with slacks and black shoes.
She gave a talk, about the challenges America faces. On YouTube, her speech-giving voice always seemed artificial, cold, harsh and brittle. Here, she was low-key, motherly, whip smart, personable and humorous - everything I had hoped for.
Then there was a question and answer session (NOT easy questions - did I mention whip smart?) followed by a no touching reception line. And OMG, she’s a foot away. She seemed a lacquered and corrected sort of person - professional - I guess you’d say.
Everyone was gently elbow bumping with her, so I did too. You’d say your name and class. “Anais Vionet, freshman,” I said. I wanted to say “I’m a BIG fan” but I thought I might come off as either fawning or even worse someone bent on wasting her time.
We both smiled, me behind my mask and I bobbed a goodbye nod, but as I went to step away she said, “How’s your Grandmother?” I was shocked but I managed to say, “She’s fine, thank you.” To which she replied, “Please tell her I said hello.” I just nodded, “yes” as a sort of “I will,” and stepped away.
I glanced around, there was no handler by her side and she wasn’t wearing an earpiece - how she knew me I have no idea - but now I think she’s considering a run in 2024. My grandmère would be a whale of a donor.
What a bizarre encounter.
The Red Cross tells me there is nothing to fear, and no harm.
However, they are sticking an awfully big needle into my arm.
This organization is happy to get a donor like me.
After all, I have the rarest type which is positive AB.
I have to lie on a table horizontally
as my crimson liquid goes into the bag rather slowly.
The nurse says I am done, and she extracts the needle carefully.
Holding my arm with gauze, I feel a little dizzy.
I get up from the table rather lethargically.
They offer me all I want of doughnuts and iced tea.
Here I am with the Red Cross in Pennsylvania.
How long will my blood take to reach the Count in Transylvania?
Five years of heartache, stale goodbyes
While families part, with tear-filled eyes
Recession rules, as work dries up
They leave to fill their working cup
As the second hand counts down the minute
Both love and loss appear infinite
Each day, each week, all times of year
We watch, as loved ones disappear
Naive of life, with bag in hand
Seeking dollar, pound, or krugerand
That's all she wrote, that's all that's in it
Another leaves, every sixth minute
For many, a room with a couch for a bed
A place to rest a weary head
Lifes lessons etched upon their face
Our countrys heritage, a sick disgrace
No flight of earls, just common folk
The golden egg has lost its yoke
Titanic shame, a guiltless owner
No cure awaits from a bloodless donor
Seventy seven and seventeen score
Left our fair isle, for a distant shore
In search of a living, destined to roam
Abandoned dreams of a life at home
Dear Blue Beauty
Oh Dear Blue beauty
You covered the entire earth as blue lace
Your powerful tides guard this earth as a fence
You changed, your self as a mighty force
to the quakes of the earth
The world became as the water globe by
Your angry tides at your red seconds
Your beauty before the storm
Is the subject of our poets
Come to my verse to beautify my lines
You are the healer of Hot burning sun and
You drag the rain to make this as evergreen
You are the best mother of this world
Come to verse to beautify my lines
You are the donor of our hunger stomachs and
You are the intimate friend of black clouds
You are the symbol of deep patience
Come to my verse to beautify my lines