Long Down on their luck Poems

Long Down on their luck Poems. Below are the most popular long Down on their luck by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Down on their luck poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Poor Old David

Words I’ve heard my whole life
Poor old David, poor old Michael, poor old daddy

If you’re from the heart of Appalachia, these are…
Words that mean the person is down on their luck,
Lost in the faded breathe of shadows, dimmed
By the hasty edges of a darkness built from sickness,
Depression and doubt, the disillusionment 
Detailed in throw away images that never last
Because after the last breathe, the picture that remains
Inside the heart is a picture perfect moment
When there was sunshine and laughter, a beautiful 
So stunning it cries out to the hopefulness 
Promising grief it will, in time, find relief in the memories 
The times when poor old David held his newborn,
Sucked on slices of watermelon as he watched his granddaughter 
Race across the sunset on a pony we called Molly,
Or felt the assurance of a dream realized by the deer
He’d just watched pass from this life into his awaiting freezer

Yet, he remains Poor Old David until the moment of darkness 
Has passed from tragedy to trembling truth, intimate
As the focus on the lens that remembers to reflect the wonderful 
Despite the regrets that test the limits of yesterday’s feelings

Poor old David will forever be invincible to the ones
Who treasure his amazingly rich and beautifully young
Memories… in those, he is the source of the heartfelt tenderness!


Undertaking

3/8/15

The thunder quaking
While there were structures shaking
And pieces of lumber breaking
During this undertaking
I would leave no others waiting
Down on their luck and stuck, in the gutter while its raining

Are we cursed?
As others in the sea surf
It could really be worse
But value the extreme worth
Of such teamwork
That could lead to a green earth

It's difficult to fathom
So imagine
What could happen
If everyone had more enthusiasm
And compassion
As if it spread like a chain reaction
Would there be satisfactions
In a place with the vastest canyons

So what if I'm seen as reclusive
One can inspire a movement
That pushes for improvement
No matter what, I will prove it
Even when it's hot and humid
And time for consuming extra fluids
You better take a good look at yourself and be honest about what you did
Form: Rhyme

When My Mother Was Alive

When my Mother was alive,
The mail always got through,
Recipients were seldom under the weather,
And replies were automatic, not automated.

There is a folder in which we keep all the replies
She got from big people and small people,
People in high places,
Those down on their luck.

Yet despite all their different backgrounds,
Of those who were not too much under the weather to reply,
There was a common denominator in all the replies
That leap out from the page,
"We care enough"
'I have read your letter from start to finish',
And 'your concern is noted and may be justified',
'This is what we plan to do in relation to your idea',
'I am pleased to tell you'
'After careful consideration and consulting experts in this field'
'I give my personal assurance'

Contrast that with today's uncertainty, of firstly,
Getting any reply,
And if you do what are the chances it is automated.

Or if you are lucky to get one that suggests it came from a human,
What are the odds of them having read it from start to finish?
And if they were not affected by the weather,
Having understood the contents.

So, what is the reason for this catastrophic breakdown in communication.

I am resending my email of the 16th of last Month,
Drawing your attention to the one I sent the month previously 
In which I outlined in detail,
The reasons and my ideas on how to remedy the situation,
Which I can go into further over drinks.
PS Shame about the weather,
It never stopped the mail getting through to you, 
When my Mother was alive.
Form: Imagism

Ungrateful People

Why is it when you go out of your way
To help someone brighten their day
Or solve a problem that has things in disarray
They want to play you as if to say
You owe them in some superficial way

Putting on some kind of poor me display
Overshadowing the kindness you portray
Some are not able to see the good deed
That some people give so freely
They do it because they are able to see
What a difference this would be
For them to help make your day stay in play

Some people lack the ability to foresee
People go out of their way, not for praise
Or to be a standout who wants you to obey
Not to create a cushion for some far off distant day
We do it because we care
When we see someone in dispare
Or life seems to be unfair

When someone is down on their luck
Because everything has run a muck
Feeling like lightning has struck
Then being able to help someone become unstuck
It's just good karma that is our choice to send their way
It doesn't require money
Or a promise you will make it right someday

It simply requires a sincere thank you
A genuine reply without asking why
Understanding that everyone 
Has not just left you standing
When your day became way to demanding

Knowing someone went out of their way
To keep your day underway
It's not how we repay the kindness
But rather how we display
All the goodwill that came into play
To help make it through your day
Form: Rhyme

Stay In Bed

Two guys at the corner of Fifth and Grant,
were looking pretty far down on their luck.
Because their beat-up old station wagon,
just got T-boned by a Ford pickup truck.

The light was green for that station wagon,
but that truck just slammed right into their car.
After they all got out and walked about,
looked like that truck driver came from the bar.

That station wagon was a mangled mess,
one guy had some blood oozing from his head.
I said to myself, it could have been worse,
thank Heaven nobody’s bad hurt, or dead.

The cop showed up a few minutes later,
asked them what the heck was going on here.
The truck driver said, Billy Bob old friend,
those boys there smell like they was drinking beer.

The cop hemmed and hawed then cleared his throat,
he said you know it looks perfectly clear.
I see what you’re saying is true, Judge Brown,
these boys will be locked up for fifty years.

So, they hauled those guys to the county jail,
told them that they don’t need any phone call.
Cause if they want to get out of this mess,
the best thing was to confess to it all. 

The sheriff wrote it all out on paper,
said that it was going to be all right.
He told them, sign your name here on this line,
then you might be out by tomorrow night.

The next morning, they went to the courtroom,
their lawyer was the judge’s son-in-law.
Billy Bob showed the judge their confession,
the biggest case this county ever saw.

There was murder, rape, theft, and robbery,
with a whole lot of other crimes thrown in.
Every unsolved case the sheriff had faced,
was listed in the charges against them.

The judge slammed his gavel on the desktop,
said haul these boys off to the calaboose.
What say we go down and have a few rounds,
cause this one calls for a couple of brews.

Now ain’t that just the way life seems to go,
some days it don’t pay to get out of bed.
You’ll be cruising along, singing your song,
with the warm sun shining down on your head.

Then the day starts to turn cold and dreary,
though that is not what the weatherman said.
Some dirty bird flies by and drops his pie,
now your day has turned all nasty instead.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Who Loves You

"Who loves you, baby?"                                                                                                                                                          A 4-worded question                                                                                                                                                   By police detective                                                                                                                                                      On a television show*

"Who loves you?"
Like a bridge over troubled waters,
Let's see if we can find a solution
For all this pain and confusion

"Who loves you?"                                                                                                                                                     Like coded lines                                                                                                                                                                 For the down and out,                                                                                                                                                       Or someone down on their luck

"Who loves you?"                                                                                                                                                   To dedramatize the scene                                                                                                                                               For someone who's caught                                                                                                                                                          On the wrong side of the law

A greeting that says,                                                                                                                                                                   I'm for and not against you,                                                                                                                                             But for now, I want to know,                                                                                                                                            "Who loves you?'

040520PoS*Telly Savalas, Kojax '73-78
Form: Verse

Premium Member A World of Charity

The sparkle of charity is alive and well
It’s the grounds for cohesion and solidarity
Making spiritual gardeners of us all

Goodwill marries kindness
Sharing bounty with open heart
And helping hand inspired by faith

Benevolence born of compassion
And hope aimed to appease
Brethren down on their luck

A heart that’s pure gives without asking
Who is sincere who is deserving
Or who is out there to deceive

Charity is best when unbound
Spontaneous and genuine
When it leaves us humbled

Wanting to contribute
To a world of philanthropy 
After all who are we to judge



AP: 2nd place 2020

Submitted on October 13, 2019 for contest 1ST CORINTHIANS 13:13 INSPIRATION sponsored by REGINA RIDDLE  -  RANKED 2ND

Empty Handed

When I was younger I had
an answer for everyone
and everything
A word of wisdom
or encouragement
for every situation
But the longer I live
the less I have to give

Not sure whether
I ran out of words
along the way
simply spent my share
or whether, sometimes,
there are no words
left for anyone
to say

Yes, the longer I live
the less I seem to
have to give

Oh I have love-
and empathy...
Enough feelings to
drown the world
in a Biblical-size flood
of emotion
But nothing more
no other store
of things to say

Seems every time lately I
leave my house
I see someone
homeless, down-on-their-luck
desperate, quietly pleading
voices softly whispering
as not to disturb
their last dangling
delicate shred
of self-respect
and dignity

Which is hard
because there's not
much dignity in
begging for the basic things
like food, or shelter
from the cold

And while not yet homeless
I can't help, as I'm too
down-on-my-luck, too
And I wonder
what the difference is
between me and you
and them-
we're certainly no better
just people, jars of clay
what's to guarantee
that that won't be me...
someday?

Premium Member Mr excessive force

He enters the neighborhood bitter 
from cold cases old grudges and gripes 
his musty breath is shallow stone cold 
coming from his angry nostrils transferred 
yet again for bad behavior after sucking
the life out of another non suspecting poor

individual while suspended to the desk duties 
for a few months he lay in waiting creating slander  
perpetrating falsehoods for the weak the helpless 
the vulnerable homeless the disabled the injured 
veterans families down on their luck he's mastered 
the boroughs villages canals valley's street corners
 
and hills throughout the city children run from his 
thumping hoofs craving blood sweat and tears 
of urban survivors holding on by mere threads 
praying for spiritual guidance redemption from 
this evil hoping for strong minded individuals 
to somehow provide ethical support leadership 

crumbles rams locking horns while performing their 
civic duties of washing the scum off the streets 
when instead Mr excessive force organized brutality 
home invasions intimidation fear corruption 
abuse of power rises about the small towns 

of little people whose cries are never heard 
until a sudden riot approaching engulfing a city 
the watchers always look on in disbelief as the flames 
crawl block for block windows smashed glass shatters 
into a million pieces reflecting the eyes of despair 
graffiti begins to cover store fronts meanwhile

friendly fire explodes sifting through reasoning
remorse the crying kind Danny boy oh boy oh boy
a quiet calm cease to behold a sullen peace
the trying time beckoning the emptiest eyes   
malice unfolds first responders are grieving 
as Mr excessive force is now leaving
Form: Ballade

The Front Gates of Graceland

Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
Commie Pinko's
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
Do Wop Daddies
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Thank you...Thank you very Much

Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building

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