Long Financed Poems
Long Financed Poems. Below are the most popular long Financed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Financed poems by poem length and keyword.
I know the end approaches..I observe many views on that
Unesco friends of the esrth action against climate
Change w e f and various national governments.' Evangalists. And jw's there are many differing views on this
How it may end etc etc etc.. At the same time dissoulute
Living is fostered and financed by many establishments
Banks invest heavily in armerments, and drug companys
Supplying large sums to finance, war in Afganistan the covid debacle and
Then propping up the war in the Donbas on the borders
Of Ukraine, and lateley the horrible attack and murder of Jewish citizens
Also hostage taking, and subsequent conflict in gaza.' These wars have
Cost many lives, and billions in funding the results being
Parts of the world are awash with arms and drugs..
And people displaced.' Inflation rages and there are no
Shortages of (experts who can fix it.? ) in all this I know
That true Love conquers all.' So in this knowledge I stand
In determination, not to take sides.' I may be wrong I know
That Isreal was special to God and (no doubt) still is.' I am
A man aware of this, and am compatible to allying myself
With them, yet would rather they make the leap to Yeshua
I have sympathy with Ishmaels descendants, also wishing
They will accept Yeshua.' also God wrote
In the old testement, He would make them a mighty
Nation.' I therefore bear this in mind and that am still just, in the age
Of grace.' Accept I may be wrong.' God is always right so i
Will accept any sentence i may deserve.' For indeed who
May lecture God ? So I will follow His teaching of Love
As the best service I can offer; worthy or unworthy.'
Hot Pot hold discards punctuality
Daddy's dinner waits for her arrival
Wave eruptions push sensuality
Faithful fund chef clings to their survival
Amazed, restrained, Romeo of Ocean
Baby drips sweet dedication's poison
Pork concoction mixes magic potion
Car salesman harsh crumbles in kiss cloy zone
Hands on her shoulders, hovering near tears
Pledging, is it genuine, game so fresh
Marriage and love lasting infinite years
Kitchen affection belies arrangement
Seven hour pork stew, beach stretch surfers viewed
Swallowed soft as his heart of servitude
29th August
Redifining Financed
It's not that luxurious solitude you can choose against a background of sea or desert, a mythological desolation like in Antonioni's film, with that subtle taste of beautiful hopelessness in the subliminal search for identity that ends with a shotgun.
That's not the case in Cainland.
It's the loneliness of exile into the reduced self, into the emptiness of cutting all ties, and your so-called identity is whatever progressive humanity wants to see, but it's always not you. .
You have to deal with another kind of existentialism, just breathe, and while you're alive, carry on if you can, or if you can't, no one will notice, including yourself.
No press screening, this movie was financed with dirty money stained with oily fingerprints.
The working title was Cursed for the Place of Birth, but in the final version it was changed to Exiled - a less dramatic, more conventional title.
The rare audience watched apathetically in silence, distracted from time to time by the flickering of their cell phones they couldn't resist reacting.
One drunk laughed at the end.
SOMETHING WORTHY
Lo, I am, axioma, solidly aware, that I am a...
I'm a wares and accepted, axiomatic axios
I am merited, knowing this myself I am
Even with this self-evident
All powers of self-righteousness, I've repented
My dividends have been financed
Now's my chance to help my fellow brethren
Something worthy
I am altruistic so I show disinterest, selfless concerns unselfish
I pray wish nothing but good glad tidings to you and yours
Showing that I pray for you and yours quite selfless concern for
Those solemn or emphatic declared state of something
I fear that we offer only unsupported asseveration
Something worthy
3/25/18©
Sponsor: Robert Haigh
Contest Name: Triple A Challenge - 14 lines Maximum
who, US?
by Michael R. Burch
jesus was born
a palestinian child
where there’s no Room
for the meek and the mild
... and in bethlehem still
to this day, lambs are born
to cries of “no Room!”
and Puritanical scorn ...
under Herod, Trump, Bibi
their fates are the same —
the slouching Beast mauls them
and WE have no shame:
“who’s to blame?”
What is happening to Palestinian children in Gaza and the West Bank is a crime against humanity, financed by American taxpayers. Keywords/Tags: Palestine, Palestinian, children, Gaza, West Bank, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Jesus, Christ, child abuse, race, racism, violence, meek, mild, lamb, lambs, kids, Herod, Trump, Bibi, slouching, Beast, American, Christians, Christian, shame, blame, Bible
A love of fast cars that he could not afford
led him to be a poor fourth place in his own race.
He once lived in an ancient Toyota van,
just for a week, but long enough to establish
that he was weak, and needed an older woman
to finance any future souped-up muscle car.
A woman with a sloppy caboose
mature enough to own a patch of land, adopted him
to tend a spread of dirt and raise chickens.
For a while he thrived in a mediocre way
until cock crows came between them.
He financed a much used Mercedes.
but the payments were too tight for his loose life style
so he buried it at night
in a mud pit at the side of I-75.
What he really wanted
was a girl dumb enough to love him prematurely
as if he were a thing to be worked upon,
but then grey hairs in an otherwise flaxen field
foretold the end of those country songs.
In a grungy bar of lost hopes
he hitched-up with a slow thinking quick drinking woman,
someone’s ex on a reliable government check.
Eventually settling down with her in a holler
in West Virginia.
He took his Stetson off, dutifully plowed her and the land
while collecting motor parts for his perfect fantasy car
one he could never quite toggle together
or ever drive.
Bratwen was a knight of slight ill repute
his good deeds oft times ending up caput
he strived to reach the halls of fame
yet it always seemed to end up in blame.
He heard tales of a damsel oh so very fair
who appeared to have vanished into thin air.
Her suitors one and all most hot her to find,
yet her captor wished in wedlock her to bind.
The king enraged very soon did proclaim
whoever saved her, honour could reclaim
Bratwen set out, his heart by beauty enflamed
the monster in his sights he quickly tamed.
Astoria so happy to be free at him glanced
fell in love and to Bratwen became financed
they circled that hall of fame as they danced
his steed carried them away while both romanced.
In the orchestrated heart of the American nation,
Underground rivers of dysfunction flow,
Tired forests and the cement sky of silence,
Where dancing illusions transform into infinite spirals,
And beings kneel under the weight of the world's expectations.
Time races through the unseen bell towers, under the shadows of official lies,
Like ghosts of forgotten truth, knocking at the gates of lost dignity,
In a quiet square where the Faustian bargain is written in falling stars,
Under the sign of a wandering destiny, navigating through the seas of toxic inequalities.
There, in the depths of the polished machinery, a dysfunction smolders,
Like a dormant beast in the eternal noise of unawareness,
And in the marrow of each power-serving edifice, echoes of a broken system
Resonate through corridors emptied of dreams and hopes.
The mask of liberal democracy, splendid and shining on the outside,
Melts under the sharp gaze of relentless truth,
A cunning game of deceptive mirrors, projecting ordinary illusions,
In a world dominated by illiberal oligarchic constraints.
The classical economy, once alive and organic, now falls prey to demise,
Crushed under the claws of a hyper-financed corporate hybrid,
Sapping the lifeblood from economic vines to dryness,
Like shadows in a graveyard filled with dying businesses, devoid of brilliance.
In the snares of this inverted world, where truth is covered like a lost treasure,
Seekers of light float in an ocean of mundane blindness,
And the voices of the downtrodden dissolve into the wind, lost in boundless silence,
As the entire land trembles under the weight of inequalities.
And amidst all this, a solitary dreamer rises on the peaks of his soul,
Gathering the remnants of a fallen paradise, searching for a hidden golden sky,
Writing in the infinite silence, words to break the shackles of perpetuity,
Like a burning banner in the wind, in the great twilight of the world.
There, in those moments of the stream of consciousness, truth reveals itself as a sacred symbol,
Wearing the mantle of liberty among the edges of a collapsing civilization,
And disappears into the light of a new dawn, a shiver of hope in the eternal night,
For those who will find the way, towards a renewed and just world.
The next president of the USA
Here we are on another Sunday; we have survived
the debacle, two old men arguing, none of them
wore reading glasses
Two things stood out, both are adept at lying with
open eyes, not looking a bit embarrassed despite
we know, except perhaps their wives
The one, more senile than the other's wife, said
she was proud of him, able to remember all
the questions without hesitating too much
so much so that when they walked out of the speaker hall
, she bought him an ice cream
One of the elderly gentlemen will be the next press
I must say, I have a sneaking admiration for him
with his bottle-tanned face. I once saw him at Chester Zoo
not unlike him beating his chest
in a bullying manner
in the background, Kamila Harris spoke about
the community and cackling excitedly
after all, she might become the first female president of America
Alas, it doesn't matter who becomes president since
the Zionists (AIpack) bought and financed everyone
on the hill (Washington), whoever wins has to drink
from this poisonous challis and take their cue from
the Mossad in Israel.
For the entire world it’s the start to the work week
In America today silent moments no one speaks
For all the battles that are done
We here ponder on Monday who really won
Is there a better way
For troops to get their say
A competitive mind
Does have the time
To figure it out
Without a shout
How to handle aggression
Brought on by depressions
And recessions
When money is there
People are happy and care
But if the account is bare
There is a feeling defined as scared
This brings tension
Anger hatred comes to attention
Violent acts play their part
Contributing to war time start
How do we solve the problem?
Diagnosed as “I got them”
An artist puts a message in a published book
Fed to the reader after the hook
Digesting it like a dish created by the cook
Athletes perform during a game
Allowing the rival communities different and same
Fight things out honoring a mascots name
Only a score to blame
Finally there is the money person
Making their assertion
Donating to the creative outlets in need
Financed after his team takes the lead
All these events result not in death
Only in peaceful conversation from one’s breath
A solution is found without dying
No need for family graveside crying
Advice words to an advisor
When putting up with diplomatic liars
Stay cool
And let honesty be used as a tool
Destructive confrontations are for the fool
And it’s true reality is very cruel