Long Foster Poems
Long Foster Poems. Below are the most popular long Foster by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Foster poems by poem length and keyword.
There's one thing about being a Policeman that I don't like.
Several months ago I had to break the hearts of two tykes.
Their parents had a car wreck and died.
After I told them, all three of us cried.
It broke my heart to see their sad faces when I gave them the bad news.
It's painful when people learn that their parents are what they're destined to lose.
They were going to be put in a foster home because they have no other relatives.
But my wife and I have a big house so we invited them to come here and live.
My wife and I were childless before.
But we're sure not childless anymore.
We petitioned the court for custody and won.
My wife is barren but now we have two sons.
(This is a fictional poem)
The Day
There is a Nat...
swimming in my coffee.
It is not too hot,
so he is still alive.
I could fish him out,
and let him live.
Or...
I could just,
drink him,
in.
There is a fly on the wall,
he has been watching me,
since I got up.
He waited for me since yesterday...
because I did not bother
to go and get the swatter.
He...
will be dead soon.
A mouse ate all the food I had saved...
the pantry is empty.
I will get traps. I can solve that.
It is the bigger problems of life,
that do me in.
Like why this or why that?
The indecision of making decisions,
that should be obvious...
for those, with common sense.
It is not common anymore.
I looked for some on the net.
There was none to be had.
It is in short supply.
A. Foster, Ann Foster, Annette Foster
Whatever ensues, we'll bequeath to God.
God unfolds, and he sustains us thus faster.
The work we adopt should be uniquely cowed.
God has endowed us all alone on this matter.
To cheer, I should foster a dignified bearing.
As yet, each of the muses affords their amenity.
Since wagging devotedness in any dealing.
The verse is feeble and prosaic as a lousy authority.
Yet long my dome it bobbed back, I can't sight.
Somebody is flopping tight for a truthful replay.
With trust redressing the case upon the plight.
Decay is undeniably greater crucial than headway.
There, I'll yield my spirit a co-conspirator.
My zealous heart has generated the blaze.
After that, the sonnet will be worn forever.
Time never alters the line rooted in God's praise.
As a child in days gone by
Mother’s rod was swift but sure
Many a weal as time went by
Scarred my skin an ugly blue.
Nagging was the way of life
My mother used to lay the rule
Not a day did I cry
Child abuse, nor reported it at school.
Father’s hands lay thick and strong
A whopping blow upon my hide
On the day I failed at sums
That slap brought answers quick to mind.
Even when I pouted and sulked
Cups or shoes came flying high
Never ever missed the target
That mother’s aim intended to strike.
No words were kind
When I did wrong
No sparing the rod to spoil the child
Discipline the child was a daily song.
Today the cry is child abuse
For which society has no use
Put the child in a foster home
To grow up to be another deviant one.
Is it wise to spare the rod?
Or better yet to talk with the child?
Still mother’s way did well for me
To talk and live like a Jesus child.
Pitch
I lay in the dark,
by your side,
listening.
I can hear you.
I can hear every breath taken,
every breath exhaled.
I count them.
One, two... three.
I get lost in the sound,
taken away,
swept up "in the moment",
of imagination,
and heartfelt prayer.
Dreams of every day,
this point to the next.
None promised,
all desperately treasured.
Before too long, it will end.
But I will never forget.
The sound of darkness,
all around...
and your sweetness,
near me,
giving me peace,
when there is or was...
none to be had.
A. Foster, Ann Foster, Annette Foster
Their ma & pa were Eastenders
Blah blah..don’t remember the Blitz
Lit the bonfire..won't call it quits
Make even their kids crazy..like nits
Hazy troll scroll hits
Society in bits due to fascist fits
Dimwits just going on benders
To the nutter gutter they descend
Quixotic pretend patriotic defenders
Horrific hateful slurry..getting lippy
Like their tan..the glory of a tandoori
Sh** hypocrite story…more in a hurry
For a plateful of curry.. than a Mr Whippy
Or a trip to the chippy
Oblivion.. foster an imposter roster
But brag..as minions from the
Dominions opinions they gag
No refrain from disdain campaign
Vain..inane..insane Reform reign pain
Yet bet still the norm to holiday in Spain
It’s a farce..you are working class
Toffs scoff..no VIP pass
Stop.. just being an ar*se
Fooled..fueled and ridiculed
By public schooled top brass
Belligerent…militant instruments
But insolent..indolent & ignorant
These refugees are innocent
No different…like you a descendant of an immigrant
Tomfoolery cash for a stash
Of bold gold jewellery
Sold their souls at the polls
For whom “the Bell” (hotel) tolls
Farage barrage racist goals pepping
News airs..or views flares
Dares from their speakers
Roles of shoals of brash proles prepping
Mass of thrill seekers going for the
Kill in crass flash sneakers in Epping
Due to the "colour of your skin"
"No room at the inn".. spin
"Don't let them in" chagrin din
Charlie snorted...no parley
Reported we have resorted
To getting it sorted by them being deported
Cardinal sin..won't let them win
Cos Asylum Seekers they are schlepping
The archangel turned imposter,
sought a rival reign to foster.
Through a scheme steeped in deception,
he received a good reception.
With his hosts of loyal subjects,
his newfound muscle he did flex.
The rebel force was put to rout,
and God from heaven kicked them out.
Banished to earth, seething with wrath,
dead set on his destructive path.
The Devil vowed to ruin man,
and thus, wreak havoc with God’s plan.
He hatched a plan steeped in deceit,
through which he secured man’s defeat.
Since Earth came under his control,
the Devil has been on a roll.
He sowed in man a rebel heart,
so, man an evil course could chart.
The rebel heart caused Cain to sin,
by killing poor Abel, his kin.
Eve hoped for unrestricted choice,
after disobeying God’s voice.
But she became a slave to sin,
and caused the mess mankind is in.
Soon humans became so wicked,
and oh, what crimes they committed.
Man caused the heart of God to grieve,
as to the evil he did cleave.
Rebellion defines Satan’s rule,
Anarchy is his trusty tool.
He stirs up the shootings in schools,
in his domain, violence is cool.
Disrespect for authority
thrives in Satan’s polity.
Might is right, do as you please,
cheat if you must, to live at ease.
The Devil’s domain has no rules,
Man is master, rules are for mules.
All acts are right, there is no wrong
Suppress the weak, exalt the strong.
A vast jungle, an animal farm,
To survive man can do no harm.
This is a glimpse of Satan’s domain,
And how he in his kingdom reigns.
The chaos that in cities reigns,
And violent acts that seem insane.
Men without chests, greedy for gain,
Who inflict on society pain.
Tyrants who rule with iron fists,
Are just the type Satan enlists,
They execute his evil scheme,
To crush those who of freedom dream.
The Devil is not mankind’s friend,
He does not human rights defend.
But one day soon his reign will end,
When Jesus from heaven descends.
Schubert had a symphony
He didn’t quite complete,
Though the parts he finished writing,
We consider quite a feat.
David Foster Wallace
Left his novel not quite done;
Still, the accolades accorded it
Have piled up, one by one.
Many things have value
Even though they are unfinished.
An artist’s reputation means
Their worth has not diminished.
For projects may be started
But not make it to the end.
We cannot know the message
The remainders did portend.
Perhaps the final passages
Might not have satisfied;
The composer might have tossed them
And committed symphocide.
So we are left critiquing
Works abandoned halfway through.
Might they be much better finished?
We don’t really have a clue.
A bsurd and foolish it might be
B ut it’s my nature, you’ll agree;
C annot ignore what I go through
D espite the help I get from you.
E ach time a stranger comes in sight
F ragile emotions turn to fright
G et me excited at one glance
H opelessly standing in a trance.
I ndeed I tremble, break in sweat
J ittery feelings that I get
K nocking together both my knees
L ord, I go thinking, save me please!
M aybe the problem can be solved
N eeding a pro to get involved
O ut of the groove I have to move
P erhaps in time I will improve.
Q uestions and answers are at hand
R eally I want to understand
S ome of the things that haunt my mind
T he doubts that I have to unwind.
U nless I act before it’s late
V enom of thought will seal my fate.
W ish that the phobia will now end
X eno reverting to a friend.
Y earning to welcome all mankind
Z ealous to foster peace of mind.
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This poetic form is called “Abecedarian”.
This is an Acrostic where all the consecutive
letters of the alphabet are used.
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30th Aug 2014
Contest: Abecedarian
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placing: 1st
"I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low;
I hear those gentle voices calling . . . "
Quote, Stephen Collins Foster, 1826-1864
____________________________
In the hush of night voices come creeping,
they shush and lull me with a silent kiss;
my dream breathes in the quiet of sleeping.
Voices unchain pain 'till I am weeping,
silent, I fall in a deep, dark abyss;
in the hush of night voices come creeping.
I want to speak, to talk at this meeting,
to tell my unvoiced love to swirling mist;
my dream breathes in the quiet of sleeping.
Into my soul the voices come seeping,
I am wandering and do not resist;
in the hush of night voices come creeping.
Wordless as a stone I stand still waiting,
and voices soundless make me reminisce;
my dream breathes in the quiet of sleeping.
I recall each name engraved in writing,
each sweet beloved name on that cold stone list;
in the hush of night voices come creeping,
my dream breathes in the quiet of sleeping.
________________________
December 3, 2018
Poetry/Villanelle/Voices Creeping
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1091-675-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Voices . . .
sponsor, Silent One
First Place