Long Free advice Poems
Long Free advice Poems. Below are the most popular long Free advice by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Free advice poems by poem length and keyword.
We all have buttons,
But we all have them in different places,
Almost impossible to find by looking at our faces.
The best way to find them is to build on the relationship,
And get them to trust you enough,
To show you where they are,
Or if they can be operated by remote control,
Give you the password.
Be aware if they have an internet connection,
You may have to double click.
Some of us have a silent mode on our off buttons,
So the other person can get a good nights sleep.
Children can be turned off,
But to do that you need a key,
Which is turned anticlockwise,
So they run out of energy and go to sleep.
Some will need a favourite book or toy,
To be provided before you can turn the key.
Remember anti-clockwise, not clockwise,
As that will wind them up and nobody
Will get any sleep.
Some people have off buttons that if pushed too hard,
Can catch fire or explode,
And if that happens you should call in an expert
In relationship building,
Like all pieces of equipment,
You should test them more than once,
To make sure they are in working order.
I also have to warn you,
That outside the hours of nine to five,
A professional relationship builder,
May be hard to find.
Of course you can avoid the need for one of those,
By building more than one relationship,
So you have a friend who you can call after hours for free advice.
Also it is recommended that you call only one person at a time your partner,
It is I am told, quite lonely,
Never having the need to push someone's off button occasionally.
'Tis well known that when medicating cats they can become rather crabby,
So, this free advice is provided when feeding pills to the family tabby.
As if holding a baby, cradle the cat in the crook of your left arm.
(Wrapping both arms with towels wouldn't do any harm!)
Putting pressure to the cheeks, open his mouth, jamming the pill down his maw.
(Apply bandages to the gashes on your jaw left by Felix's lethal paw!)
Since he wouldn't swallow the pill, pick up the soggy mess from the floor,
And try to tackle the little rascal as he streaks for the open door!
Next, kneel on the floor with the cat firmly gripped between your thighs.
(Enlisting your spouse's aid to subdue the critter would be very wise!)
Place the pill on the end of a drinking straw and blow it down his pharynx.
(Taking care not to swallow the pill yourself or damage his delicate larynx!)
After using naughty and nasty language that is here best left unsaid,
And coaxing the rowdy patient from beneath the king-sized bed,
Try forcing his clamped jaws open with a handy tablespoon.
(Then, pick up the shattered vases that all about the room are strewn!)
After chasing the scoundrel around the neighborhood on an exciting spree,
The fire department should be called to rescue Felix from the neighbor's tree!
Then, call the local animal control people to pick up the cat from hell!
Later, call the pet store to see if they have gerbils, fish or parakeets to sell!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The day my life went ape ‘chit’ in no more than three-hundred words
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch counts
And pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis works wonders
When I am asked to write a poem that is either precise or reductionist
Thus I report from my personal lock down epicentre of home isolation
With free advice to conquer the gremlins of free speech and contagion
Firstly pretend you are German because one compound nouns fills a page
Then rediscover hyphenation and have a match with auto-correct settings
Or pick up the challenge and find those scrabble pieces under the couch
Next to valuable coins a few toe-nails or belly-ring to gather your thoughts
Pasta shapes with letters and letterpress cookies are essential food items
You will find them on shelves in shops where the loo roll had previously been
On that delicate matter it might be worthwhile to consider what colloquy
You can fit on a single ply sheet used sparingly on both sides in dire need
Word counts are useful to pass the twenty seconds it takes to wash hands
But remember to spell hyphenation-control-centre with a dash of content
Consider that a pencil is sharp on one end if you poke fun on the toilet
My wife still bears a charcoal tattoo from when a soft roll in satin sheets
Gifted an indelible reminder that pleasure and pain work hand in hand
A carefully calligraphed dot to dot surely trumps auto-generated novels
Unwrap fortune cookies and proof read for the true meaning of spells
Whatever tickles your fanny until cohabitational glow fades in the face
Of adversity calling for regaining control over figures of speechlessness
Blank page …?
One last piece of counsel and guidance for a true minimalist poet or scribe
‘I love you’ works well all you have to do is repeat one-hundred times
28th March 2020
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogochis the name of a
small town in the North of Wales
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis lurks in the shadow of corona
Poem written for Caren Krutsinger's contest 'The day my life went whacko'
Word count exactly three hundred words
THE TALE
Walking down the street with my bare feet
The thoughts of Mahatma, Nelson Mandela, and Osagyefo
Pumping my blood towards the course of Emancipation
Freedom! - Is the word
The one true legend which opens up all minds
To set free the thoughts of the thoughtless
To make strong the spine that’s prone to Hopelessness
To give the Shy another chance
Confidence! - (A Core)
To reach and beyond boundaries unfathomed
And who can deny the “Wondrous-Magical” spirit
Provided by the Supreme Man upstairs
Our Father (GOD)
For He has given, even me, a purpose
To live,
To fight,
To survive (strive)
Not a super tale to be tossed with
Not to be forgotten
And not only to be told or passed
In successive generations
But to be lived,
To feel free,
To embrace;
Everything Destined….. (Free Advice)
BY ASANGALISAH AKANTERE ISAIAH
Sugar Sugar everywhere taking it without plants if I dare.
Sugar Sugar make my arteries stiff and crisp, but do I really care?
Just for the record why should I keep giving free advice.
If the music that I make, just does not jive.
Guess you just don't have a case of the hives.
Its a serial crime to sell ce-real to kids.
Whether i boast my quake on oats on a general hill.
Or make kill logs of all the bowels I could have had.
But still these guys keep making me break-fast as an adult.
Let me open the box to see what prize i got.
Ohh look a dead cat which never got me my satisfaction back.
Guess I will just end up paying the price for seeking my prize.
Can we truly see what's real without cereals?
These days it's clearly the fashion
To tell college grads: "Follow your passion."
Yet consider this quick note of caution:
Make sure with your passion you'll cash in.
For Example:
What if your passion is playing trombone?
You spend years and years trying to hone
The skill to emit the purest of tones;
But will you reap what you've sown?
Or simply work your fingers to the bone,
So you can stand in line for a loan?
Remember:
In life it pays to be practical,
Neither over didactical or under tactical;
For it not, the consequences
Tend to be quite 'dramatical,'
Or possibly morbidly theatrical.
Bottom Line:
So when deciding on what occupation to make your splash in,
Do not necessarily follow your passion,
Especially if it's something quite asinine.
Sign up instead for MY 'profession:'
Do as I say, not what you're best in!
I can't live in mystery
I'm waiting with bated breath
Where and when I'll stand or fall --
The hour of my death --
The facts of life are meaningless
There is no moral code
There may or may not be another side
Til then, get outta the road
Go ahead
Explain it away
I can't take the riddles
Quit knocking on my door
Stop advertising free advice
It isn't what I came here for
S'posed to write an indispensable memoir
An illegible tome of shame
People keep on interrupting
Tomorrow, it'll be the same
The same old scrutinizing
The same old sphere of doubt
Some miracles are worth baptising
But they're the kind we tend to throw out
Explain it all away --
Tear the cathedral down
We're pining for something long since gone
You can sense it just by
Sense it just by
Sense it just by looking around
Go 'head,
Explain it away.
I’m Mz Mortenson, if you please.
I dispensed with the charade
when I went to my grave.
Life can be tricky
if you’re pretty.
My life was a role,
I couldn’t always control.
How unaware the dumb bombshell seemed.
Still, I was labeled the obscene Norma Jeane.
in reel life’s small doses,
the role was emotionally corrosive,
merely etching away my fragile identity.
In real life it proved erotically explosive
destroying my privacy, serenity, and sanity.
I thrilled in some 29 films, I took a few pills,
was a plaything for mobsters and tabloid mills.
When I started a fling with the president,
did I have any idea what I was up against?
Some free advice - beware of counterintelligence.
Homicide, suicide - what does it matter
- which one is sadder?
I knew I’d always be there for you, sensuously beckoning,
at 24 frames per second, like an eternal flame - flickering.
.
.
Of course, Norma Jeane Mortenson’s stage name was Marylin Monroe
Written for the 'Lost Poetry from History Challenge' contest.
Where you write a poem in the voice of an historical figure.
16:00.06-17