Long Forecasters Poems
Long Forecasters Poems. Below are the most popular long Forecasters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forecasters poems by poem length and keyword.
I saw a thousand things today
powerless to impact but in little way
millions of children no meal will eat
but we can't decide upon which treat
There is no water to drink that's clear
weapons and bullets so many have fear
the leaders of religions their children molest
praise their God and commit incest
Against this system so many swear
to effect its changes way to few dare
cars and houses with sensual delight
clouds that clarity to do what's right
Countless lives passed through history
too many cannot define it's mystery
bodies rocking their prayers to the wind
wondering when will their suffering end
Those that are weak the predators prey
using excuse that they are built that way
Babylon rides the back of the Beast
we have been deceived from greatest to least
Even those who carry the true Gods name
have put the teaching of Jesus to shame
they have put good for evil and evil for good
accuse those who tell truth that its falsehood
Twenty thousand children one religion confess
fathers and elders with rape cause duress
the numbers are too miniscule I fear
this number is only two continents I hear
With pleasure and entertainment buried our mind
but our choice and voice our actions define
politicians and merchants and news forecasters
religious leaders whose influence are masters
But the finest teacher of recorded time
confessed the Truth taught what's divine
asked all mankind to consider his word
till your decisions and choices prove you've heard
The finest qualities displayed among men
could all them be found in him
yet not one among man have I found
the depth of him can equal abound
No life has any true power
without its commitment to good in its hour
I saw a thousand things in my mind today
like a moving picture on permanent display
Matthew 12:3-21 15:1-20
Matthew 23
Jude 1: 12-15
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Anticlimactic mood after February 18th, 2021 snow storm subsided
I hate spoiler alert
regarding weather forecasters prediction,
especially when meteorologist
wannabe spouse doth blurt
out impending blizzard
which never materializes.
Yours truly humbled and enamored
when Mother Nature
singly and/or nsync with old man winter
looses propensity to wreak havoc
and/or blankets landscape
I fondly think back
remembering '96 storm of the century.
At that time January 1996
me and the missus timesharing
Shawnee on the Delaware
ardently striving, yet
unsuccessful conceiving Blizzard Baby.
Now far beyond procreative age,
(though I wistfully envisage
begetting another progeny -
simultaneously stretching credulity
to breaking point)
all things considered
exhaustion would peter out
after capitulation of divining rod
necessitating lifetime to recoup energy.
Bound within figurative four walls
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania domicile
courtesy appreciable snowfall,
I direct energy crafting poem.
Yours truly will actually
refrain comestibles despite feeling hungry -
lest metabolism to digest food
decreases potential alertness,
and full belly finds me
ready able and willing
to doze immediately into deep slumber.
Hungry stomach in tandem
with eventful weather
sends surge of giddiness
coursing thru body electric
crackling, popping, and snapping
(while O Captain My Captain)
came to witty man (me) suddenly
enervating with poignant pregnant expectancy
papa pondering his empty nest syndrome
analogously attempting to offset void
coaxing poem into existence
unsure how literary endeavor
(mine) will thrive
amidst well suited
panoply of prolific writers,
whose unseen fingers
hop lightly and gracefully
across qwerty computer keyboard
akin to heavy armed soldiers
with fearlessness and deliberation
heading off to war to acquire poetic license.
Meanwhile chafed knuckles
of one garden variety primate
previously scraping along tundra
(methinks I espy frozen Mastodon)
(before twenty first century caveman
learned to stand erect)
endeavors to strike letter combinations
eliciting, facilitating, and generating
enticing curb appeal.
How refreshing to experience
a reprieve from sultry weather
when hazy, hot,
and humid warm front
unleashes a very short sweaty tether.
Man hat tin dar overcast skies
hint potential rain on the way
perchance avast dastardly
flickr ring instagram
kickstarter linkedin shutterfly
Taurus headed soundcloud
skidding across celestial
(span hushed) rink
surprising forecasters by yowl
ling whimsically, unexpectedly oye vay
training (laser like),
Asian outsize dark cloud
climatological frontispiece
randomly making next stop Old
Rotten Gotham's Greenwich Village
zero wing in on
Poor (Chuck Keys) Uruguay
neighborhood possibly confidently
foretold by meteorologists today
pointing at map showing
cold air mass as it doth sashay
July twenty first 2018, though
Mother Nature defies pre
diction pulling out all (busted) stops,
vis a vis via "her" quay
zee bag of tricks nay
saying trained forecasters klan
hush all self importance
also to humble those mere mortals
getting paid a handsome buck
by anthropomorphizing viz cluck
king in tandem with duck
billed Baritone Horn
Trumpeting "FAKE" luck
trotting out obstreperous
Sunny Rays, who doth beam
with radiance a
diametrically opposed extreme
over zealous call for precipitation
instead raining one after another quanta
bright blinding meme
outsmarting the seem
ming airtight (cat in the bag)
prediction leaving once supreme
vouchsafing without a doubt forecasters
left holding the empty bag
large enough tuff fit the whole team.
Cold front brings August respite
upon cusp of autumn quite
natural palliative to forget monetary plight
relieving spate of dog days of summer
seasonal crisp balm appeared overnight
evidenced of late by Jeeves
cool temperatures at night
temporarily bumping ugly
global warming with moonlight
sonata courtesy mother nature
perfect bonfire weather courtesy lignite
kept burning chaste cheerful pro bono
strong arm moored Sir Lancelot knight
sinewy physique, muscularly lean
apropos appellation applied Jack Lite
doubling up as Jack Frost
i.e. old man winter based
on Farmer's almanac
forecasters, who possess
sixth sense insight
predicting harsh winter, yeah right
as if standing atop shoulders of giants
towering, rivaling, overshadowing...
Jack and beanstalk re: fabulous height
seedy tale Aesop pose ghostwrite
ten and/or retold by Flora Annie Steel
fanciful imaginative flight
first appeared as The Story to delight
kids all ages of Jack Spriggins and
the Enchanted Bean in 1734 quite
similar to goose that laid golden egg
wishful thinking miniature
cogs and wheels spin
furiously at midnight
fantasizing escaping out
maws o' penury plight
accepting hand to mouth existence
experiencing pleasant distraction
as fall weather doth excite
reminding me seasonal change
could kindle potential playwright
within, which storyline outright
fabrication trumpeting rich mogul
comprising make believe webbed world
frees yours truly 24/7 nightmarish fright
one forlorn bummer groveling along...
holding transformative amulet tight
precious stone of malachite
imparting deep energy cleaning,
bringing healing powers that
powers love delight.
This is Epic!
an epic adventure
a moment of truth
a wild ride
Oh My God!
sliding on ice
still moving, still moving
HAHAHAHAHA!
amazing!
every moment counts
right into the belly of the beast
we’re going to get our gold
we’re either all in or all out
a circular pattern
ship is adrift
keep pulling, keep pulling
expect the unexpected
forecast is bad
decide to give it one more shot
we don’t want her to sink today
Oh My Gosh!
unpredictable current too strong for them
an urgent call
Good job!
gold in Greenland
it’s going
she’s underway
recover the anchor & chain
Do or die
we’re loggers--not psychiatrists
he’s full of piss & vinegar
we’re getting beat up in this boat
at the mercy of the elements
the gold feeling
I’m good—we’re out of here
Let’s do it!
muddy seabed
sleep on that for awhile
a dinghy…coming straight through to y’all
he’s seen enough
the clock ticks
searching for a golden shipwreck
we’re losing air
every moment counts
what the hell is going on?
I ain’t gonna die
running out of time
forecast is bad
closure not an option
It’s go time!
[Forget] this!
search or die
for amazing shipwrecks
a murky epic feeling
Good wildmen don’t sleep on the job
semi gold is adrift every time
chasing jackknifed cows on icy roads
Oh my Cow!
epic absurdity
searching for sinking gold
dissolving in viral weather
optional closure in Greenland
Oh the frozen minds
inexplicably adrift
streaming viral weather
going in no time
yet on time?
divers wave at epic forecasters
amazing rescue
slide on highways thru hell
a race against the elements
in these scenes of
Reality
I’ve learnt to judge you at crucial time,
Not to conclusions jumping: a regrettable crime,
Marriage a woman often eyes in her prime,
Your chosen days, a sour lime,
In my room locked, caring not a dime …
Your hovering winds minding,
When their pressures are grinding,
Your heat we don’t support finding,
Your droplets on even paths winding.
Befriended I have weather installations,
In reasonable disregard for my misguided eyes,
And unhelpful nostrils of clueless inhalations;
A soon-to-be- frustrated traveler cries!
Your forecasters do their faculties stretch,
For their job that does the future sketch,
The processes, some science, some puzzle,
To the outsider, a shotgun’s dark nozzle!
Openly praise I do Meteorology,
Just as we freely, Theology,
For our aeroplanes’ safe schedules,
And avoided typhoons, in their own right, needless.
Bad weather: a reason to evacuate a zone,
Biting cold dying to visit the bone,
Our bodies in voluminous coats conceal,
This done to shivers heal.
On the feet of an underdog drops victory,
A world-rated team packaging her defeat,
All the wind-aided records of history,
The shoddy from champions one could never beat,
In an unaccustomed weather playing,
And from success track straying.
Bad weather: a sad news for outdoor activities,
In the face staring festivities,
Every young day wearing a stormy countenance,
A prelude to hurrying priests of eminence,
In the interception of rainfall versed,
Never failing to reproduce the rehearsed.
Automotive experts clearly agree
Driverless cars are the thing for you and me
How did they arrive at this brilliant conclusion?
Perhaps by illusion or via delusion
Perhaps by a bit of Malthusian confusion
--All I know is it leaves me in deep disillusion
Yo, Honda Corp, Mr. Yamada, did you ask me about it?
Yo, Nissan Corp, Mr. Saikawa, do you think that I tout it?
Yo, Toyota Corp, Mr. Toyoda, can't we live without it?
Yo, Subaru Corp, Mr. Nakamura, why don't you doubt it?
The 'cool corporations' want driverless tech
Not one of them is willing to stick out his neck
Yelling like heck:
"I want my independence
I want my freedom
Whatever sights can be seen
I want to see'm!"--
Not sit in the backseat fiddling with a device
While the bot in the driver's seat ignores his advice
America's highways and byways, her mountains and valleys
Lo, her fields and her meadows, her side streets and alleys
Were meant to be driven, meant to be seen
--Not merely imaged on a tiny phone screen
"See the USA in your Chevrolet
America's the greatest land of all" (Dinah Shore, TV ad, 1950's-60's)
Keep humans in the driver's seat
Spring, Summer and Fall
--Don't slow this country's love affair with the auto to a crawl.
So, all you pundits of prescience, prediction, precision
You fearless-faced forecasters of science-less fiction
Before you commit me and my friends
To a future none of us desires
~ Think twice: Cars may just lose all their buyers
The Ride
As the hands of time slowly take its toll on us,
Without our permission we’re simply placed upon that bus.
We’re driven down life’s highway full of unseen disasters,
Roads filled with obstacles and no guide or fellow forecasters.
We stay on that highway till it’s time for us to leave,
So when that bus stops for me I ask you not to grieve.
For I have reached my destination a million miles away,
And transported to a better place, this bright and shiny day.
A place we all are headed for down life’s uncharted roads,
A place where we can lay down all troubles and loose those heavy loads.
Each of us go separate ways but sometimes our paths may cross,
And those special ones we meet on that highway are our greatest loss.
Some of us travel lengthy roads, while others not far at all,
Some don’t really understand why the Master calls.
You see this ride we’re on is to prepare us for that day,
To meet our Lord and Savior who’s waiting by the way.
So have your ticket ready and know where you want to go,
It will be straight and narrow, the Bible tells us so.
Just listen to your heart as Jesus speaks to you,
You’ll know your destination and when this trip is through.
And when this trip is over I hope to see you there,
As our paths must have crossed and you are someone for which I care.
So smile as you cross those paths and know that you can meet anew,
This is not goodbye, just a friendly thought I wish to share with you.
Brilliant light and sound show
not disappointing forecasters promised
outstandingly uproarious performance
powerful winds rage
against the machine
embark to score prestigious
chart chopping hit
pliancy of heavy
boughs sorely tested
ear splitting cacophony
presaged coming fury
within safe shelter of B44,
I hunkered down
analogous to brave soldier
avoiding deadly crosshairs
imagining villainous turncoat
targeting yours truly, now
considering me enemy sniper fire
body instinctively crouches
against impending "FAKE" battle
suspected collusion trumpeting
thunderous applause issuing prelude
betokening nonpareil symphonic
unscored cacophonous rendition,
where pliant limbs
deign to welcome
impending stormy "Daniel" reign
impossible kickstarting boots
on the ground impossible mission
mere mortals cannot hush
their lame clout ineffective against
weapons of mass destruction
unleashed by Gaia
forcing immediate recall
atavistic survival skills
tapping into fifty shades
gray matter within
primitive brain stem
long atrophied primal beast,
an individual object lesson
desperately summoning
emergency measures
lest life and limb
whiplashed to pulp
by furiously roaring winds
fierce howling tempest
reminding 21st
century *****sapiens
merciless Mother Nature
intolerant toward global indignity,
perhaps foregone
watershed of extermination
points ship of fools be damned!
A storm is brewing, I fear, of unprecedented magnitude.
The storm in mind is not one related to the weather;
Nonetheless, entities and objects of interest are already being cast about and displaced. None should be surprised, because the forecast has been clear as crystal.
The warning of lightning has been firing up the skies of indifference and self-seeking for years. The massive sounds of rolling thunder have been shaking up the familiar cultures, but the masses have been too busy thriving and surviving to investigate what is behind the noises.
The reliable forecasters, the prophets and seers, both true and false ones, fear for the worse. Still, most of us see no evil and fear no evil. The attitude is such that whatever happens, like always before, we shall rebuild and live on as usual.
Too many of us believe only what we have been told, not realizing that the usual ways of living is about to fold. Too many of us think that the game is one of checkers or chess, not realizing that the real game is dominoes.
Yes, the storm is brewing.
Humpty dumpty is about to fall;
But there’s still hope for us all;
God is always waiting for us to call
04152016 PS Contest, A Storm Is Brewing,
By Kelly Deschler