Long Druthers Poems
Long Druthers Poems. Below are the most popular long Druthers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Druthers poems by poem length and keyword.
“When you judge others, you do not define them, you define yourself.”
~ Earl Nightingale
Why is it we are judgmental about others based on their mistakes?
If you envision yourself as one who's guilty of that, apply the brakes.
We shouldn't be obsessed with another person's faults and flaws.
If we are to be honest with ourselves, we need to sheath our claws.
Often, we pass a verdict on ourselves based on our past behavior,
but that's a conversation to be discussed between us and our savior.
There is only One who has the right to judge each and every one of us.
No ifs, ands, or anything else about criticizing others is there to discuss.
I don't sit on a bench in a black robe and there's no gavel in my hand.
If ever I evaluate someone else, I should be given a stern reprimand.
It's true, we will be gauged by the method in which we measure others.
We'd all have positive thoughts of family and friends, if I had my druthers.
Leave those stones on the ground instead of hurling them at anyone.
You don't know what harm you can do, or what you've already done.
Being judgmental can be very cruel and categorizing people is rude.
Society judges us by class and race. It's time for a change of attitude.
Gobs of happiness, bundles of joy!
My sister turned out to be a boy
Mom said, “Welcome your little brother!”
She'd been promising me the other
You know! EEEUW... a baby sister!
Imagine if I had to kiss her!
Thanks to the stork way up high
If Mom had a girl, I'd probably die!
Sisters don't wrestle or play with guns
They play with dollies, have girlie fun
Glad the way things have turned out
Us guys are buds, there's really no doubt!
I know! I realize they're people too
In fact, some are cute, this is true
But if you're gonna give me my druthers
I would much prefer a baby brother!
The moral is, if you eat your veggies
Your Mom will be happy and never edgy
A contented Mom will usually bear fruit
With a baby boy who'll be cuter than cute!
These are the words of a real little boy
Who won't even try to hide his joy!
He comes right out, it's not a quiz
Boys are superior and that's how it is!
In jest...
Cracked castles are in dilemma. whether to fall or stand
Waters whirl like a lake and sea, with a lean sign of land.
Among the carcasses of beasts lie humans, as though mixed
In destiny's destructive force, nature remains transfixed.
Swarms of insects strive for existence. Will they all outlast?
Ants carry a dead snakelet in procession, unasked.
Do dogs, cats, goats, and cows think that they're in a swimming pool?
Aren't they on their final journey, though the water is cool?
Blessed are the rescuers, who risk their lives to save others.
To leave one to die or to save them, they have their druthers.
It's due these that the catastrophes of nature get humbled.
The fanfaronade of death and its decay get crumbled
The flood is like autumn. With its waters, it flows and fades.
Doesn’t the drought-flood scene have been enacted like sun and shades?
Vegetation sprouts with renewed vigour, power and strength.
Meadows, orchids, and orchards spread out to an unseen length.
Close up,
Beautiful golds and yellows erupt,
As I look through the microscope,
Be careful on the stope,
Don't trip, or the fools will mistake,
And betake,
It's beautiful crystal formations,
All in one station,
Packed together as one,
Glittery, golden, crystal sun,
Tricking all and pretending to be another,
I bet it wants to be more important, if it had its druthers,
Lines everywhere,
A mix of colors making me stare,
Eyes have to dart around to find the different shades of gold,
Small or big specks of yellow, so bold,
It fools everyone, making them question,
Whoever holds possession,
Look closely at its setup,
Close up.
Live on the weakness of others?
So that when they are ill, we
loudly cheer and get our druthers?
Such is the likes of we, lost, poetic
humankind.
We, who claim to be sensitive and sweet,
are really ethically blind.
We march about like we are so
wonderfully humanistic?
Best look in the mirror, we are not kind
but totally bombastic.
We dance garbed in black, in the shadow
of the gallows.
Praying death comes soon to our hated
opposition fellows.
And so proud to print hate on these pages.
Humor disguised as death wishes and blood
curdling rages.
We cannot kill the person we hate with guns.
But our words can fully a destroy a country,
me, you or anyone!
10/3/2020
10:30pm PST
Depending on the hemisphere
and whom one might be talking to
there is only one Me settled
in dialogue most of the times
Give or take and given the choice
I would settle for that but
then I find my druthers
in Ying and Yang
There are days when the Ego sets in
and the Self and dichotomous voices
perform the splits on a mental trapeze
hanging in polar suspense
Ooh that hurts when
harmony balances in disassociation
and the safety net bounces when
vociferous yo-yos transcend
Up and down from right to left
a square rooted conundrum
proceeds as the tiller man
turns in delirious jester’s court
No final judgement just
one glimpse in the prism
gold from the rainbow
and the treasure my lover
22 August 2018
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude” —Unseeking Seeker
the passersby wailed in laughter
with a blink of an eye she sought the here after
prompting hatred she'd rid and had been
gone the sun's soul beaming within
left are the pieces contusion once dealt
exemplification deep purple, blue/black welt
anticipating that it is all in the imagination
innuendo scorns, undertones as intimidation
the nuances of facial expression and body language
an undercurrent hides beneath an open bridge
the windy storm blows farther its opaque steam
whilst whispering mantras gently stream
uttering phonemes begin and she softly chants
deep breaths balm lofty thoughts further enhance
‘I choose and listen how my inner voice druthers,
and not the random opinions of others’
forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds—perfume
on the heel that has crushed it, where sweet aromas loom
All things can tempt me some far more than others
Hear what sates my desire what are my druthers
Anger and booze led me astray in the past
Poetry and rhythm now give a kinder blast
Coffee helps for my ink to flow from the quill
Fags sweets and Coke Zero help to feed my skill
But my lover's curves keeps me from writing
To kiss ruby lips is far more exciting
So I follow my mouth and write on her skin
Drink passion and heart blood and then I begin …
25th February 2020
Contest All Things Can Tempt Me
Sponsor Beth Evans
Syllables checked howmanysyllables.com
Butters Drippin’ From My Ears
Summer’s mostly over
I’ve not once mentioned Iowa corn.
It’s the symbol of the state
In which this rhymer’s born.
There are other places
That grows passable “sweet” corn.
I’ve eaten several others
But my druthers always torn.
In dead of winters dreary days
And it’s all the markets got
That “shipped in” product
May pacify the corn longing spot.
But when Iowa summer’s here
Weathers so hot & steamy.
There’s nothing like fresh corn
With melted butter. . . so creamy.
I’ve always thought eatin’ corn
Was the most sensible fashion reason
Hot butter drippin’ off my elbow
Makes short sleeves so now in season
We start dreaming of its coming
As soon as local gardening starts
Sweet corn & vine ripe tomatoes
Are close to this old couples hearts.
There are various spots to buy it
Lots of small, road side venders.
There are local “farmers markets”
Even “organic” stores for heavy spenders.
But my wife has a favorite seller
So weeks early we start spying.
To find that special farm fell'er
Many years his ears has been buying.
When she says, going out the door
”I’m going to see the little man”
I know I’m in for a real corn treat.
She’ll soon return with ears in hand.
It’s always cool and fresh picked
The husks are tight, the color bright.
The ears are chuck full of kernels
And almost never a bug in sight.
We get them all shucked
The waters now boiling
But the season is short
Soon there will be no more toiling.
We close out the season
Cut a few ears for the freezer.
Soon we’ll be saying “Good-by”
To this special taste “pleaser”.
Written by oldbuck after another
wonderful home cooked meal that
included “Iowa” corn on the cob.
My stress was through the roof before
This day at last arrived.
So many problems could crop up,
Plus I was sleep-deprived.
The heat, the crowds, the lines, the waits,
The grandkids, 2 and 4-ish,
As well as my devoted aunt,
Who's 89 or more-ish.
Yet it indeed was magical -
"A Small World" ride and others,
Amazing since this trip, I'd never
Choose if I'd my druthers.
The rip-off dinner worth each cent
With characters there hugging,
The pictures proof with smiles so wide
My heart-strings got a tugging.
To share this day with those I hold
Most dear cross generations
Was worth much more than I foresaw
Despite my trepidations.