Long Friendly Poems
Long Friendly Poems. Below are the most popular long Friendly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Friendly poems by poem length and keyword.
A hot day and a smelter
Is it in Qatar, or in Dubai a friendly aluminum
smelter for sale, the one in the picture on a TV add
looks ok
Now that my wife is on holiday with her aunt I cruse
on the TV, but this is the first time I have come across
a smelter of aluminum
I buy food at the deli and warm it at home, taste
remarkable like my wife's cooking, not that I have seen
her peeled potatoes.
She hollers, come and get it and slams the cooking
lids together
I have had many cars, old ones, mainly because
I can't afford the taxi fare, I have no money to
buy a new car.
Aluminum smelter!
Wouldn't that be amazing?
I met a man in a bar who said he was a retired poet
spent his time writing slogans on walls
I told him about the affable smelter in Dubai
the retired poet looked out of the window
picked up his notebook and took no interest
in my smelter
He had seen a donkey with a straw hat and
regretted his retirement
Son of the soil protect this land
this gift our forefathers blessed.
With gnarled fingers they dug deep the earth
To bring forth food and ore from
a land warm and supple
Poured forth milk to nourish us all.
Son of the soil protect this land
Nurture the soil, replenish it, till and plow
the source of our existence.
Don’t let selfish desire persistent greed
endless strife bleed the hand that feeds.
Son of the soil protect this land
Do not rape or plunder this precious gift
Else woe will be your fare
of arid cracked and fissured lands
Hunger and despair .
Son of the soil protect this land
Let not the friendly wind blow on empty dust
nor cheat us of this gift bestowed.
Don’t let our forefathers turn in their graves
to see a wretched land, empty hands nor hear crying hearts
or prayers for rain.
Let them only sing songs of praise to you my son.
Son of the soil protect this land.
Make your forefathers proud.
Have you ever heard of Miss Lolly Palooza
Lolly's a sweet young thing
You'll never see her when the temperature's frigid
She emerges at the first sign of spring
Sometimes a robin will try getting here first
It's an age old friendly contest
To see who's gonna be the one to announce
Old man winter is finally at rest
Miss Lolly Palooza is the lady we wait for
With bated breath every year
Bringing us fields of lovely spring flowers
But she also brings rain I fear
With every drop of rain that comes down
A flower raises it's pretty head
Spring's not the time to be down in the mouth
We should all be happy instead
So Miss Lolly Palooza has returned once more
Welcome her with open arms
She can only stay for a very short while
Then disappears with her charms
© Jack Ellison 2013
This Poem is about the 'hard to get' attitude ladies portray to interested guys.
Despite my unbelievable swag
repugnance is her reaction to my flow
despite giving no attention to her
she seeks every opportunity to shout "NO!"
I seldom want to be friendly
but she spits on me like a bitter foe
I then don't give a damn about her
and she takes it like a heavy blow
Out of nothing, she creates a scene
but all I can do is shake my head
and say Oh!
the more I mingle, the worse she gets
but I'll not succumb and act so low
she flaunts her male acquaintances for me to notice
Okay! You have admirers, so?
I guessed this is a one time attitude
but it has been occurring seven weeks in a row
When I register my presence around her
her body rhythm increases as if in physio
trying so hard to pretend
makes her seem like a shy dancing Buffalo
Then, I make her seem not existing
it's not my fault; you reap what you sow
signs of her sufferings begin to show
as her body trembles in sight of me
from head to toe
what a pleasant feeling this brings
seeing her drown in her own woe
Finally!
She concedes defeat and already surrendering
showing by the way she's changing like melting snow
now playing the nice girl, but my ignore?
Makes her want to stone me with a Hoe
I'm beginning to compromise emotionally too
and I'm scared she will get fed up and go
so, I create my chance and kiss her
as she shows her joy like a swelling dough
revealing her hypocrisy, exhibited right from the beginning.
Since this feeling is now reciprocated,
she shrugs off the attitude and dumps it below
as a new damsel now emitting with an everlasting glow.
Bruised moments, flooded with shadows,
Silhouettes of lonely graves,
Hidden in the promises of fate’s disgruntled maze,
Bedded down on prickling thorns of loss,
Lavender faded beneath the stones,
Slabs of grey granite, memorials to those passed,
Gone to homes in the eternal realms,
Where God gives peace that never stings,
Peace that never aches, peace, my friend…
Peace that stays,…
Wounded by wars between the heart and soul,
Silent battles, making friends of foes,
While in the shadows,
Betrayed and brave as the sun,
Shines a sadness, glistening like the moon,
Shimmering like the stars as they move through the night,
Just as quiet as the peaceful seas,
Just as gentle as the blessings we seek,
Sweetest blessings…
Painful stillness, droning on and on,
Through the shadows,
Almost like a song – breathing steady,
Embracing the dewdrop morn,
Following the wonders of laughter and murmuring grief,
Friendly kisses from the magic beyond the grave,
The light, lingering, lazy…
Trembling with a trusted fear,
Yes, a trusted fear….
Stagnant moments, at the grave,
Where phantoms erase the silence,
Speaking of hauntings that might last,
There in the shadows,
Where oaks grieve for the leaves that dance,
Bidding farewell, not a second chance,
To waltz amid the branches, revealing the joy,
Impressing the fairytale princess,
Believing the melancholy and all its prayers,
As the wind beckons, shedding doubts,
Shedding doubts, for a while,
For a while…
Aching moments, silencing the faith,
That goes before you,
Arousing the restful beauty, the truth
Fading like the shadows on the smile,
Smile who remembers,
Even the past needs its while,
Even the past, needs its while,
Needs its while…
Why not a poem, when the world turns proud,
To issue a whisper one is not cowed?
Why not carve a poem, when heart turns sore,
To seek calm comfort knocking at the door?
Why not a poem, to chant sunlit days,
To shade the sparks, share one`s joy on the way?
Why not a verse to paint a starry night,
To hold the wonder in a silver light?
Why not a verse to catch the falling rain,
To listen lonely to its lax refrain?
Why not a poem, for the wafting breeze,
That rustles secrets through the leafy trees?
Why not a poem, when deep feelings glide,
To let them surface, with the flowing tide?
Why not a poem, when warm words gush new,
To paint a picture, honest, strong, and true?
Why not a verse, to sing the shine of spring,
The robin wobbling with its waving wing,
The sharp, sweet smell of star fruit in the air,
The meaningful moments beyond compare?
Why not a poem for the joy we find,
The friendly faces of a kindred mind,
The shared laughter, echoing far and free,
A tapestry of happy memory?
Why not a poem, when we face the wall,
When a divine beacon answers our call,
When a thread of hope guides us on our way
Towards a brighter more forgiving day?
Why not a verse to please our inner self,
To be creative, at peace with ourselves,
To let the smooth rhythm carry us along,
And weave our stories in a gentle song?
Why not a poem to paint the image
Of a rare bird, with colourful plumage,
And its cruising flight in the azure sky
To reach the apex of the inner high?
Why not a verse, to quit behind a trace,
A little beauty, in this hurried space?
Why not a poem for others to see,
To inspire all those who desire to be?.
A poem conveys in a trite, cute way
One`s feel, thoughts, mood, any time, any day
On issues bearing on men and the earth
From birth to death, with sadness or with mirth.
So why not press the keys, to carve a verse,
Whether it rhymes or not, terse or not terse,
Let our imagination free its lens
And let our heart find its own recompense?
For in the writing, and the letting go,
A silent sparkle starts to softly flow.
And in that moment, free from doubt and fear,
We'll grasp why poetry is held so dear.
Here is some friendly advice
You don't have to pay the price
Every time there is someone
Who makes things come all undone
You are there to pick up pieces
this endless cycle never ceases
Putting you in the middle
Of some bad and awful trouble
That taking its toll on you
Its not your obligation to
Fix everyones life but yours
Thats torn apart a little more
Each and every time you see
Someone else in misery
Its on your nature to be kind
But somewhere along the line
People took advantage of
Your sweetness and caring love
Never seeing this occuring
As others were always luring
Your good nature to their greed
You have to stop and see you need
To become a little tougher
Finding some way you can buffer
This flowing of love emotion
Into a more controlled notion
Making your days a lot brighter
And your heart a little lighter
"Good Morning," she says with a smile that can light up a room.
I return her greeting and then we both continue our commute,
and that's the end of our conversation and interaction
until she arrives at her train station destination,
whereupon she once again smiles radiantly in my direction
and with a final good bye nod to me she exits the train at her station.
Her simple act of kindness starts my day always very welcoming.
It is one of the highlights of my day.
Physically and mentally exhausted is how I end every workday.
I wanted to thank this friendly stranger, but I should have left it alone.
This highlight of my day has gone away,
disappeared, vanished, gone,
and all because I couldn't leave well enough alone.
"For you," I said handing her a greeting card as she left the train.
Thanking me she departed. Since then things haven't been the same.
Now we rarely make eye contact. If we do it's awkward and quick.
One of the highlights of my day has all gone to ****.
I guess my thank you was received under the wrong impression.
In the greeting card I wrote the following inscription;
"I just want to take this opportunity to say
that when your pretty face and lovely smile greet me each day
that it is one of the highlights of my day.
Thank You,
for sending a little sunshine over my way.
My Very Best Wishes To You Always."
I just wanted to thank her and share my sincere appreciation,
but now I find myself asking myself the same question;
"What did I do that was so wrong?"
Oh yeah, now I remember.
I just couldn't leave well enough alone.
Little dish of a thing tiny and humble,
standing tall at the heart of them all,
hose in hand a quiet thing. Said hi to me.
Right there at the beat of the Dark Tower
and I knew before a second or an hour,
that it's true. I said hi to her too.
Her mind carries the Uni.Verse. Not three
digit but more in her eyes, I could see it
recognized. Little dish of a thing washes
the dishes I bring. Sever passes dirty
the plates to sea a washer washing
inside the machine. We said hi on day 2.
Again.
"Do you know high math" when you wash?
Eyes gleaming behind the mist and noise,
the Washer kept watch with silver poised,
for the cleaning. Her layer is steaming hot
and her eyes scream know me not... but,
I befriended her anyway.
Because she plays. There in the Passage and
framed in the Gates our eyes met Lights in a
beam of water and steam our eyes, both gleam.ing
Sounds of the machine are screaming and Time
isn't moving as we See. You are Me echoes
two in recognition in Vision, In Number. Old
schooled and humble in silent knowing we stood
passing the dishes to and fro in and over the
flow of water, eyes burning with a knowledge of
the Ancient Great Fire.
And we hug in exchange of a glance
.... called recognition. Little dish of a wish
I made came true when she called me by
a friendly name too. Then we shook hands
knowing that we'd speak again.
Our arrangements set firm.
The Washer faded Way then.... her eyes pull
back into the Myst and the dishes bang. Only
silence now from the machine...
Good work began...
In a Great Friendship, Just. Beginning.
~In Universal Understanding~
~There Came a Great Land.~
I see the Do-Gooders are out in force again
And this time it's the annual Christmas Coke Cola Bus
Stirring up the fuss
Crusaders against any and every cause
No topic to juvenile or puerile to rage against
They want to ban children visiting the Coke Cola bus
Because some children are obese
And as they see it this is there duty to stop
As it will somehow end and solve the crisis
Now correct me if I am wrong
But I have never seen a child
Buying or pushing a shopping cart
Around a Supermarket
With a Credit Card
Or am I shopping on the wrong child friendly day's
It's usually Parents who buy and choose the items in the trolley
And Parents who cook make or feed their kids
What is the point or to what end
Is banning the bus so children can't see it
Going to make a blind bit of difference
And why should everyone have to pay the price
Or is that old teacher's adage
You see now you have ruined it for everyone
Father Christmas
Santa Claus
In all its modern day guises
White Beard
Red Santa Suit
Is a Coke Cola patented trademark
They invented modern day Christmas
As we have come to know it
I know it is crass to say but
Coke has done more to promote Christmas
Than religion or church has
I wish all these Do-Gooding people would stop trying to fix us
Who actually asked them to
And why do they know best
Who anointed them saviors of the rest
The only thing good intentions have ever taught me is
Walk a mile in my shoes
Looking out your warm safe curtain windows
And your rose tinted views
For what its worth
You will never be the same
When you know what the reality of a life of pain brings
You cling on to the small things
Like the annual Christmas Bus
Beside Mum and Dad
Fulfilled and glad
Is that so bad