Long For the most part Poems
Long For the most part Poems. Below are the most popular long For the most part by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long For the most part poems by poem length and keyword.
I live in my heart although thoughts intrude
at times, which I dismiss from my presence
but they soon return because they are rude,
so I still my mind in blissful pleasance.
Caressed by bliss mists divine and sublime,
I remain for the most part in deep trance,
stirred breath by breath by love’s beauteous chime,
opting not to alter my circumstance.
There’s no effort that needs to be applied,
to become the flame of eternal bliss
so holding God’s hand, I thus wingless glide,
drenched in rapture as polarities kiss.
As light self-existent, throbbing within ~
I feel with each breath, ignition begin
27-May-2023
5/30/22
"Much Larger"
Getting smarter
Working harder
Open to barter
Occasionally taking a charter
Nearby a harbor
Sometimes wearing armor
Buying crops from farmers
When necessary I display ardor
In order to reach farther
There needs to be a departure
Brush your teeth or there will be disease and tartar
I have no care to become a martyr
The bigger picture is much larger
No matter if times turn darker
And get harsher
I've become sharper
Ups and downs I went through many
The weight on my shoulders and back got heavy
Nearby an eddy
I held on steady
With a machete
Ready for any medley
From here to New Delhi
Then beyond the Serengeti
I'm talking good and plenty
I got no time to be petty
I need to stack up some serious feddi
Instead of just celebrating with confetti
Will they ever accept me
Or just always judge and think less of me?
Occasionally listening to Mozart
I've been off to a slow start
For the most part
A lot have no heart
So if need be I shoot them with a blow dart
Then take off in a Go-Kart
Into the Ozarks
At it again, guess who?
Can't let it all get to you
Even though everything I've said is true
Life is always going to test you
Will either handle it or panic and call for rescue
There once was a General who had an investment in the swamp
He had many ways of getting what he wants
Including making things great again when he stomps
While in the marsh land
The General had to make a stand
Feeling pressure from the groups
Most were wearing their pinstripe suits
For many years they dealt the cards
Depending on social pages and stars
Doing business with the entire world
Using positive dialogue as its stir
For the most part this was peaceful action
Warm welcomed after the bitter distrusting combative fraction
Marketed as the evening news featured attraction
During these years of violent behavior
Games were played that the country savored
Goals, Baskets, Runs and Touchdowns galore
Checks being written and money in the bank everyone was sure
These sporting exhibitions found themselves having time on the floor
In every paper results were reported
With space, journalist awarded
Printed information
About the spectacle they were facing
Competition was the civil way
Based on physical activity play
During this fun
When communication was supposed to be done
Keeping things flowing
Like a country’s crew team doing the rowing
The General should be aware
About this unique style of internal affairs
Having the purpose to advert small upheavals
That the enemy could provide as their evil
All this is something to interpret and appreciate
As states get things straight
Sports are not games designed around winning
Instead they bring closure to the living
Unlike cultures who are sore
And do not know how to stop fighting a war
Hopefully the New York/New Jersey General will use this athletic battle fleet
To confront humanity’s flaw, the need to compete.
Yes I'm down and yes I feel broken
For all the years words needed to be said had in fact remained unspoken
Now they have been said as to the way I feel and why
For the most part my eyes thus far have seemed to remain quite dry
Tears I will not allow myself most times to no longer cry
Deep in my heart I know for a fact we belong by one anothers side
To my feelings I must abide
And believe me when I say it can be a lonely and extremely wild ride
I close my eyes and what do I see
I see you right here all the time here with me
So even if I feel broken and my heart may seem to be tore
On you it's not the easy to once again shut that door
I just can't do that this time as I have done before
A single battle in this moment maybe lost but I'm still fighting the war
Breathing may seem shallow and my eyes maybe closed but I'm far from being dead
Although for so long now my heart and soul for you has tremendously bled
You are still the one I know I'm supposed to be with forever
And together we are supposed to ride out the stormy weather
Yes you are my very pain, my every drug I need, my addiction
But I don't put that off on you cause this is my infliction
I would put myself through this always because I know for me you will forevermore be my
affliction
head melds with heart and thoughts recede
synced with gong Om, the void’s our home
free from desires, on earth we roam
ego dissolves, love takes the lead
heart-centric soul begins to glow
resistance ends; we gently flow
bliss pheromones begin to breed
pulsating within day and night
God bestows spherical sight
we live as of need, not of greed
our eye’s mindful and touch gentle
for the most part, nonjudgmental
one with oneness, our will we cede
Breathed by God, we see Him within
His grace erases every sin
head melds with heart and thoughts recede
ego dissolves, love takes the lead
bliss pheromones begin to breed
we live as of need, not of greed
one with oneness, our will we cede
We decided to take a swimming pool exercise class for seniors…
we thought it would be sweet…
A way to get some exercise and beat the Florida heat.
Two realizations hit me as I waded in: One, the water was a little cool,
and Two, as I looked around it seemed to me…I was the oldest man in the pool.
My mind drifted back to my swimming lessons…my parents thought it’d be cool
to take me when I was just a baby…the youngest in the pool.
My birthday is on New Year’s Eve…six days after the Yule…
My parents sent me to 1st grade early so I was the youngest in my class at school.
At 21 I became a teacher…for the most part still a fool….
but here I was in Kent, Ohio…the youngest teacher in my school.
And I wondered where the time has gone…while exercising in the water…nice and cool
How have I gone from the youngest…to the oldest in the pool?
Then I found myself smiling at my good fortune…time has not been cruel…
for there beside me was my wife, Deborah, exercising in the pool.
We have a wonderful family…friends…we’ve had pets both dogs and cats….
We’ve been lucky to grow old together…and there’s nothing wrong with that!
As we finished our exercise class a baby was taking lessons…learning how to swim…
I stopped on my way out of the pool to wave and smile at him…
Secretly I hoped his life…like mine…will be a jewel….
A parting wish from the oldest man…to the youngest in the pool.
No, I had never heard of a movie by the name, The Shape Of Water.
No, I do not know from whence the inspiration for this poem is to be drawn.
And no, I know not which direction to take nor where this poem is going.
But yes, I think that water has a mind of its own and goes where it pleases.
This poem might pour rain waters down like the Great Deluge in Noah's day.
Or this poem might keep its head in the clouds where multiple shapes of water exist. Or this poem might take the wings of white droplets, giving us uniquely crafted snow flakes. I suspect that water loves to roam, has no real home or form, nor any shape of its own.
Were I to guess from observation, water takes the shape of its target and moves in the direction of least resistance but will clearly force its way. Give water an opened container, and she will fill every empty space, forming the shape of the container; but if closed, water may either encircle or forcibly move such object.
I suspect that for the most part, on this planet water exits in the form
of liquids. In other parts, water takes the form of ice, snow, and slowly
melting glaciers. Given an earthquake in the deep blue sea, water
may come rushing in high speeds with waves reaching the ocean
shores in a variety of sizes in the form of a destructive tsunami.
Any inspiration I've had has run dry. I'm thirsty for a drink of water.
061521PSCtest, The Shape Of Water, craig cornish
I’ve been a resident at ole Soup Creek for a while now,
For the most part, it’s a great town with folk from all over.
But through years, I've seen riff raft come here too,
I never cared too much about them; just ask Rover.
The fine citizens of this town will band together to drive,
out anyone who doesn't have our best interest at heart.
Each person plays a part in keeping the peace and harmony,
I knew that about this place right from the very start.
So if you aim to stir seeds of discord, lies, and the like,
Please, Mr, Mam, Sir, or whatever name you go by.
Can you please do me a favor and take a hike,
Soup Creek doesn’t need rift raft like you goodbye.
In case you wondered about Rover, he’s my best friend,
A German Shephard who’ll be with me until the end.
05/25/2022
Alexis Y.
Letter to the rest of the world:
Don't feel sorry for the United States of America.
The vast majority of we the people get along just fine...
It's the five percent (dead enders) fueled by the press
that think Lady Liberty owes them something.
That democracy has somehow failed them.
Truth be told, they have failed democracy.
They've turned their shortcomings into flaming arrows
firing them at successful members of society.
In their regressive malice in wonderland world-
good becomes bad-bad becomes good
rioters and thugs are turned into martyrs
For the most part, we the people are doing fine.
Plow horses plodding along, doing our best in this short life.
Learning from the past-not dwelling on patina sins.
The disgruntled losers amongst our society
spray-paint America as a horrible place to live...
Funny thing is that I don't see any of them fleeing.
They'd rather continue taking and complaining.
With no intention of ever giving something back.
The haters in this country find grand wizards in every breeze.
Behind every thin blue line, with every stir of a leaf.
Some even put Jesus into exile.
For crimes of purity and compassion?
The grand wizard illusion is that America is systematically racist.
This is the latest flavor of their out-of-touch madness.
If that were true, a black man would have never been elected
to be the leader of the FREE WORLD.
Are you awake yet?
The seconds ran fast
as did the minutes
which never seemed to last.
And the hours took wings
as if racing to the finish
to beat the last bell-ring.
The days flew by like jet planes,
leaving trails to capture the memories.
The Winter months were cold but never grew old.
When young, I captured the memories that arrested me the most.
I shut out the others, refusing all that would render me toast.
From decades past, those 'November Recalls' caused me to smile.
The Spring season delights in bringing resurrection,
And the Summer beckons for 'breaks, escapes, and timeouts'.
And then comes November, following September and October.
November says to me in gentle tones, "Enjoy your fruits of labor.
Time and toil throughout the year have swept you off your feet;
But I have now arrived that you may rise to festive and merry times".
"I have slowed the pace to reflect upon the year's race.
For the most part, a year that has embraced and favored you.
I offer you peace and poise; hope in anticipation of 2023".
110822PSCtest, A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE.
Brian Strand