Long Full term Poems
Long Full term Poems. Below are the most popular long Full term by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Full term poems by poem length and keyword.
He used his tool and got it wet
And he had no regret.
If you play with matches you can get burned
This is the lesson they’ve yet to learn.
Her menstation came a bit late, and on the
Results she had to wait.
It came back positive just like she knew
Now there was something she had to do.
She confronted him with the news
His response was : “this child you must lose “.
I’m too young to be a dad- cause of a little fun we had “
Now the thought weighed heavy on her mind
Should I abort? Do I have the time?
There is a child growing in me, and taking its life
I just can’t see.
GOD has given me the most beautiful gift to man
Although this wasn’t a part of my plan.
I will raise him on my own, and to that dead beat dad
I’ll throw some stones.
A single parent living in a house all alone
No electricity and no phone.
Bill collectors at the door, has her wondering if she can
Hide any more.
She was abandoned during her pregnancy
With no friends or family.
The biggest lesson she had learned
Was when she had to work thru her full term.
He said he loved her and would always be there
When told she was pregnant – he didn’t care.
He had to fulfill his sexual desire, and she was there
To put out his fire.
How can some men be so cruel, and think all women are the fools.
He claimed the child wasn’t his , and walked away with a grin.
She had made a mistake, but was no fool
She learned a lot while in school.
She put the welfare system to full use
To stop this man and his abuse.
They hunted him down and checked his DNA
And now this man has to pay.
Now she has the last laugh
As he’s paying thru his ASS.
A little flight takes off nearby
Oops! It does not drift into the sky;
A tailor bird delves into the nest,
feeds the chicks, the food best
So whenever I step into my garden
I ask them "May I come in?"
Some babblers stare at me sullenly
Oh! They're aiding grownup kids fly.
Umpteen birds "Who's the mom?", I wonder!
"We live in community" they thunder.
So whenever I step into my garden
I ask them" May I come in?
Common crow butterflies glide in the air,
and seek their host plants everywhere;
Finalized the pink oleander as their host plant
Soon, a kaleidoscope of butterflies gonna enchant
So whenever I step into my garden
I ask them" May I come in?
White bubbles encroach the green grass
Bubbles emanate cracking, become like glass;
Oh! A big head with small eyes emerges,
garden lizard raises and starts to diverge
So whenever I step into my garden
I ask them" May I come in?
Squirrels scamper everywhere
Munias, hoard millet seeds from here
Bulbuls, busy eating the worms
Biodiversity works in full term
So whenever I step into my garden
I ask them" May I come in?
We've begun to beg terrorist nations to supply us with dependence.
When the world's largest deposits of independence are underfoot-
Farmers are paid not to produce food.
So, we can no longer feed ourselves...
Meanwhile, Bill Gates just gobbled up 250,000 acres of farmland.
The world has been muzzled and repeatedly injected with a mysterious concoction called big pharma bonanza.
Our leadership keeps reminding us that we're a racist nation.
Yet millions of People of color race across our porous border-
We weep over a miscarriage while scores of full-term babies are being slaughtered every day.
Concerned parents are called terrorists.
While looters and rioters are encouraged and subsidized by V.P. Harris and similar ilk.
Police have been demonized.
While repeat violent offenders have been given the golden ticket to violate again and again.
Just a year and a half ago my vehicle got a sweet 35 M.P.G.- now it only gets a bitter sixteen.
We've got a president in rapid cognitive decline.
A V'P who's good at two things.
Opening the border and her knees.
We have a newly elected Supreme Court justice who can't define what a woman is.
Obama once said he was going to fundamentally change this country.
And boy was he dead on...
Only God can right this listing ship called America.
Biological copulation draws Easter egg,
fecund gooey glommed gametes
heralding zygote
(adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion
generate hormonal influx
juices kickstarting life manifold
natural occurrence pregnancy quilts
rudimentary secrete tapestry
until vicar wizard yields
zealous adorable biological concatenation,
derivative extrapolated filigreed
Gonads heft, induce jointly knotted linkedin MineCraft
nascent occurrence
presaging quintessential reproduction, sharing third trimester,
umbilical venerated womb
yawping zee amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic acid,
enigma fantastically grand
husband injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic nothings,
opportunistically pierced quarters, readied shutterfly trap,
uterus vibrantly welded
* * * * * * * * *
yoked zappa bun, cooked definitive enchilada,
formula generations hardy
induced jimmied kin, labored maternal newborn, one pricked queue,
randiness spurred testes ubiquitously, voyaged whimpering yelper
thence subjected to the royal treatment
whence reality inundates the full term offspring
upon a lifelong journey (initially as a foreigner sans in utero),
but willfulness viz life source secures survivor
against the pinging peccadilloes
learning by trial and error to iron out kinks
as one among the human league
since the modus operandi to transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus
to traverse poet tent shill pitfalls along
space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.
Form:
A New Year celebration, a time for joy and cheer
Another chance to make things right
For all that failed last year
This year it will be different though; a resolution firm
No stopping after days or months
This time you'll go full term
With all the plans that have been made; resources stored away
Research has been completed
There's no time to stop and play
Get up! Get out and do it! Let nothing stop you now
Move past all obstacles in your path
You'll reach the end somehow
No more procrastination; stop wasting precious time
The goal is set - reach hard for it
It's going to work out fine
Just don't give up! Stay on the course; don't turn yourself around
The finish line is just ahead
And you will wear the Crown
The blizzard was at its peak;
Snow drifts all covered the street;
Our blazing fireplace provided the heat,
When my full term wife’s water decided to leak.
Our first baby’s time to arrive had come;
Outside visibility was close to none;
About birthing babies I had no clue;
We weren’t sure what we should do.
No one answered our 9-1-1 phone calls;
The Lamaze breathing we tried to recall,
As outside the snow continued to fall ;
This miraculous event was being no fun at all.
I pounded on my neighbor’s door,
Then we ran and got five neighbors more;
One had a snow mobile we drove down the street,
To the highway with hopes a plow driver we'd meet.
We waved down a city snow plow,
Who made it up our street some how;
In his cab my wife and I rode,
As I coached her how to pant and blow.
She was crowning as we finally arrived;
The doctors rushed her quickly inside;
I thanked the driver of that truck called Snow Wizard,
And that’s how my daughter acquired the name Blizzard.
Most of my Lix spittle
+ four additional anniversaries
since exiting birth canal
as full term newborn
re: minimally viable existence
post doc severance umbilical cord,
nevertheless yours truly
found himself figuratively
linkedin and tethered to lifeline
particularly in formative years
(primarily academically) adrift,
and malfunctioning blinker
analogous to a boat
without an ankh (clawing
away to stay afloat)
aimlessly bobbing -
and drowning akin
to a besotted drinker
just out of rest to be
rescued by Mister Rinker
sea ming lee without
any hook, line and sinker
despite being gifted with
an above average thinker,
(who calls Lake Wobegon
his birth place)
from without, where two
brown myopic ocular
orbs shutterfly, twitter and winker.
All thru academia
just barely passing grades
nsync with avocations
such as: jigsaw puzzles,
photography, playing piano
weight lifting with free weights
and other endeavors metaphorically
suffered from anemia,
and at my nadir,
thy prepubescent psyche
plummeted lovely bones
into grave state,
courtesy anorexia minus bulimia
mental health also linkedin
shot thru through with
healthy dose of dysthymia
captioned tinker tailor soldier spy
kept awake with insomnia
peppering cerebral
cortex with monomania
buzzfeed ding somnambulant
zombified condition
with a burning
desire toward pyromania
nsync with unmanageable
raging (red dee
and bull lush) testosterone
spawning (when libido
ran rampantly amuck)
satyromania, the above particularly
accentuated, and cresting
with accursed triskaidekaphobia
most agonizing, when
orbitz around Earth
demarcated ten plus three
month date on a Friday the thirteenth,
hence death be not proud
sought after utopia
pleading, longing, and hooping
if I Willoughby
able to sprinkle
cremated ashes across Xenia
after Dayton death.
Learning when/how to close seat then...
flush... the toilet with good frisson!
(alternately titled long windedly
using lower case letters:
no matter tidily bowled over based
upon real events, perhaps subject devoid
of literary merit and/or taste
no embarrassment, cuz
I got nothing to cover
despite precious time going to waste).
Analogous to constipation,
constitutes full term pregnancy,
perhaps umpteenth or first,
which former offal bodily function I durst
mention, said subject doth stink,
yet... exercising bowel
applicative, constrictive, effective,
exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,
massive, oppressive, qualitative,
quantitative, significative and unitive
(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)
both scenarios prone to stress and strain,
difficulties can arise evacuating bowels
gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,
radiating sharp stabbing sensations
behind junk in trunk quarters felt
until bulging temple veins ready to burst,
where piles of hemorrhoids
foul rectum tortured and accursed
necessitating Judas Priest well versed
to issue last rites while
appropriate official dull livers worst
news to missus, whose
inconsolable sympathies nursed,
nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow
honor alone time with grateful dead
subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,
privately newly minted widow mourning
tears for fears immersed
bemoaning sudden permanent absence
gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first
instance obliterated, when posterior
uproariously (actually not funny)
inflicted hemorrhage emergency,
die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced
all expense chauffeured ride in hearst
aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,
courtesy hearsay, when
hypothetical woman with child,
(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)
as maven ready to take aim giving birth
(nine months after satiating
hankering call of the wild
buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,
and temporarily appeased
inherent maternal yearning
to beget offspring, then... off to races
sprinting at greased lightning speed
amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,
(among other fledgling
and/or practiced moms avid runners
all touted as winners relay race crossing
finish line simultaneously
comprising distance measuring more'n verst.
I’m fully out of my slumber,
now knowing poems aren’t born in dreams,
but from a mind dipped deep in ink,
a brain awash with quiet resilience.
Yet in its silent agony, the paper stares blank—
befuddled by the jargon the nib dares spill,
deepening laughter in the sponsor’s folly,
rejoicing with the writer’s block
still unperturbed within my brain.
But there’ll be no excuse for defeat’s glare to scare;
so long as my mind stays sane and sound,
my “impossibility” shall be read as “it’s my possibility.”
Just give me time—and my fears will flee.
So fill again the pen that refused to write for glory.
Where is that page that once denied my excellence?
Within its belly, a masterpiece lies full-term,
ready—aching—to be born.
Take strength, my weary muscles.
Flee away, all stubborn sleeps—
for your absence shall birth my excellence.
A beautiful,
radiantly pregnant,
lady liberty
swings back and forth across this Left to Right predominating stage
of political history.
As she recesses toward Left stage climax
she recedes from LeftBrain audience's co-evolving view
for one ecstatic, yet intellectually ambiguous, moment
sweeping a revolutionary change
away from monocultural history,
to re-emerge in royal blue skirt of virginal regenesis
and full-breasted naked multigenerational torso
laughing with us
at how hilarious this bicamerally polytultural opera
has resolved ultra-violating dissonance
and nuclear divisive fears
of nature-spirit fertile fusions.
This pregnant lady sings
in full-octave resonance
with us
as we become HerStorically ReStaged,
degenerating unwoken hypnotic LeftBrain trance
to once again regeneratively engage
nondual co-empathic stage presence
Swirling swings of spiraling inside/outside
mind/embodied-consciousness,
as day invites dream
dawning yet another radiant
singing,
liturgically dancing
Gaian evensong.
We're not even theoretically together
until this humane Lady Liberty sings
co-operatively with us,
globally togathering,
consuming and producing full-octave resonant resolutions,
resolving swinging spirals
Left to Right to regenerate Left again
toward Crown/Root
Sage/Muse eco-dominantly resonant circles
away from YangLeft dominating over YinRight.
YinRight inductions reconnecting
religioning toward more transparently empowering operas,
replacing patriarchal economic terrorism
with matriarch/patriarch musical-comedy
agapic feelings leading erotic thoughts
Cooperatively owned economics
with bipartisan co-governing politics,
no longer waiting to conjoin
this synergetic singing
pregnant Gaia's
laughing full-term compassions
Beautiful,
eternally pregnant climax promise,
liberated lady
swirling to and fro
with Left and Right winged stages
of Gaia's political history.