Long Get around Poems
Long Get around Poems. Below are the most popular long Get around by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Get around poems by poem length and keyword.
Hi! My name is Mr. Green
I'm sure you've heard of me... I get around
I just can't go anywhere without being seen
You know, it's amazing how people flock to me
Sometimes I feel like a movie star, people reachin'
and grabbin' just to get a piece of the "G"
Wow! I'd just always thought I was cool, supportive, Lil "G"
But folks out here trying to make me a celebrity
Man! Oh, Man! How did I become the spectacle of
so much confusion—the lies, secrets, greed, violence, and hate
Oftentimes, I feel as if I put the "D" in dissension
I'm down for collaborative and productive work
But I'm allergic to hate, division, and hurt
I mean... caring is sharing, right?
But why do people get at me and hold on so tight?
Seriously, folks will rob, cheat, steal and kill
Brother, sister, father, mother, cousin, friend... I'm for real
I'm made of wood and ink, that's all
My composition is simple and minute
But still, I'm the chief cause of many people's fall
The trees need prunin', the lawn needs mowin', but that can wait,
'Cause those wily rainbow trout are just itchin' to take my bait!
It ain't that I'm indolent, but work and play I cannot relate.
I've heard I have an unwholesome propensity to procrastinate!
For months my spouse has pled with me to build some closet shelves,
Beseechin', "Do you think they're gonna up and build themselves?"
I'll get around to it someday, but today I have a golfin' date.
Strange! She says I have an inborn proclivity to procrastinate!
I've been aimin' to clean the garage to provide much needed space.
The mounds of useless stuff has become a terrible disgrace!
But football season is on TV, so I have very little motivation.
Do you suppose one day they'll find a cure for procrastination?
For weeks the kitchen sink has leaked and needs repair.
The washin' machine is actin' up, due to wear and tear.
Even composin' verse for weeks I've avoided to create.
Ain't no doubt about it, I fear I'm destined to procrastinate!
I have a lengthy list of things that someday I'm a-fixin' to do.
The agenda keeps growin' and the things I've done are few.
Now and then I review the list to re-prioritize and update.
'Tis sad to say, but I have an inclination to procrastinate!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
How wonderful it was when young to stray
and find sweet springs to sip from on my way;
to get to stroll down summer lanes and touch
the cattails’ fuzz that tickled me so much!
My childhood passed. I got to cross a sea
and see green mountains tower over me;
see sunlight streaming on a Spanish plain.
I FELT it too upon my face, and rain
I also got to feel while ambling
down Paris streets; I loved my rambling
from west to east and back from east to west.
My youthful days of rambling were the best!
I’d wandered, yet I somehow always knew
I’d make it back - my rambling days all through.
I was not made for wandering too far
nor making many wishes on a star.
I settled down. Most wandering left my mind.
I never guessed the future I would find.
One day inside my empty nest I found
(as if by magic) I could get around
to other places! Thoughts would fly to me -
the lovely vagabonds of poetry!
I do not have to leave home; there’s no cost.
Creating, I am wandering, not lost.
Dec. 22, 2021
2025.2.19
Conflict of interest.
Since when did I start facing that?
Why did it happen all the time?
Did I have its meaning misinterpreted?
Was there a term to describe,
How, all of a sudden,
You felt some things in life,
Like they have reached the end of their lines.
Every day, I struggle, pleasure or pressure,
Physical or mental, medical or financial,
Exhausted travelling to enjoyed playing the piano,
Attempted paying non-PBS medicines
To drain my non-existing saving.
Tried hard to remember the music,
Ended up with headache.
Used the sustain's pedals,
Ended up hurting my leg's muscles.
Once, I had to juggle
To visit my friend in hospital,
And assisted the doctors
To understand his medical conditions,
Or to help my mother in finishing,
Her Birthday wishes wordings.
For nearly two decades,
I survived without money.
Did I have any of it?
By chance, I found this place,
Since then I could relax a bit,
Of the finance's issue.
Where I visited and what I did there
Was quite legistimate and fair,
It was heaven when you had fun,
But it became hell when you were done.
I did quite alright until last year,
I decided to give all that a miss,
When I meet and spend time with you.
You did not influence me nor knew anything about it.
It was my own decision and
There was big conflict of interest.
How did it happen?
Well, it gave me financial secure,
Whereas I was on nine clouds,
When you were around.
Now everything ended,
Your friendship and my finance.
I did not and would not blame you.
There was no obligation on your part,
Purely was my personal decision.
I accepted and did not regret it.
Last but not least, it has happened lately,
When someone promised to help me
More about the Poetry website,
Then he disappeared, no contact, not in person, nor on line.
Therefore, everytime I logged in,
First thing appeared on my screen,
Was someone being an active "Follower",
I had to figured out how to get around,
To log in properly and ended up spending lot of time.
I was wondering, if I touched the botton,
"Unfollow" next to the follower's name,
What would happen then?
Should I just remove it and get on with it.
Have I defined correctly the meaning of Conflict of Interest?
Possessive pronouns get around, these greedy words grab all
though thy words will be just thine, wherever they may fall.
But whether yours, or theirs, or ours, or mine, or hers, or his
be careful with apostrophes or those that you may miss.
For its, when written thus as - it’s, takes on a different rule,
it’s two entirely different words, or so they said at school.
But what about the plural game, what was it that we learned,
which pens belong to who or whom where boys’ pens are concerned.
The boy’s pen surely is just his, but boys’ pens are quite a few,
boys’ pen ,however, shared around would make them wait in queue!
This plural game can’t get much worse? I wish that this was true,
for if the item ends in – s there’s more that we must do.
The boss’ book is his alone, where did the last - s go?
But what if bosses own the book…. it’s time for me to go!
Ivor G Davies
Interestingly the title of this piece means "It is Possesive" as the possesive apostrophy is normally omitted on the word "It" (I looked at its shape)
Mars's population
The dwellers of Mars never go outside
the air is too thin, and nature is unsightly
They live in caves, gigantic caves that
stretches' for miles
they get around on electric bikes, but
lately, they got hold of a Tesla drifting
by sent up by an eccentric inventor
who had a fun day.
Since life is never-ending, a tight
control of birth is needed only for those
with the biggest bikes can augment
the population with one child each
For an unknown atmospheric reason
the main glass door, into the tunnels
was suddenly green, which caused a stir
many wanted to go to earth
The leaders of the Mars dwellers
thought it was a good idea of sending
some of the dwellers and a rocket
service from Mars to Earth opened up
The new arrivals from Mars were
amazed at how beautiful the earth was
but upon learning all life has a time
limits, they hurried back to Mars
Born without any legs, sweet Irene,
a mother and wife, is serene.
By accepting her plight,
She does more than all right,
Saying, “Handicapped? What do you mean?”
“Though I’m legless,” she says, “I’m not bound
to my bed because I get around!
I move quite easily
on a board made for me,
and I push off with hands to the ground.”
“People stare, for they think I’ve been burned
by life,” says Irene, “but I’ve learned
that for what I’ve gone through
a great wisdom grew
inside me, and blessings I’ve earned.”
Written by Andrea Dietrich for
nette onclaud's Serenity Response Poetry Contest
I chose. . . courage to change the things I can
(actually this poem focuses on the entire Serenity
prayer and not just that one line!)
I was quite sweet before the trauma of rape
Afterwards I was no chocolate cake
I was shamefully terrible in temper
Took my issues with men out on them
Having them fall in love with me
Was like a game of cards with odds
I didn’t even want to be married
Only to have indigo itch scratched
I did become quite a fan
Of having multiple boyfriends
Each like a tire on a car
I used to get around my broken heart
And of course I kept a spare man
Eventually I grew tired of the lame game
Of musical chairs using male frames
I began to mature and become patient
Motherhood came made me stop face
My pain and I stopped hurting myself
And perhaps other men as well
I took a vow of chastity
Sincerely was for the lord and me
And somehow he kept me covered despite my sins
I really did make amends within myself
And now I’m fearful of hurting men
I never tried to but was selfish then
Now I am like a new healed heart
I love the power of our God
Who picks you up turns you around
And places feet on solid ground
I’m not perfect and as I age
I feel happy that I am saved.
I repent of my sins. Amen.
There is a tear in an old wedding dress
Hidden away in a box in the attack,
Covered in cobwebs,
And collecting dust.
The dress is carefully lifted from it tissue paper tomb
To be admired by the grandchildren
Who trace it’s silken edges with their fingers
They hold it up to their chest
And imagine what it would be like
To wear it.
The grandmother eyes the tear with distaste
She gently brushes off the cobwebs
And vows to repair the hole.
Somehow she will never get around to it.
The grandchildren are easily distracted,
They are more interested in the moose antlers
Hung on the wall,
And the large half covered painting of a naked woman.
Soon they run back down stairs,
The novelty of the attic beginning to wear off.
The grandmother watches them leave,
A weary smile on her face
She kneels in the dust of the attic,
As she pulls the faded dress to her chest.
Tears fall on the dress in the attic.
4/13/2023
Writing Challenge "T" words
Constance La France
Once I said, “A great world this would be
if it somehow became excuse-free.”
We no longer could say,
“I will do that some day
if I get around to it. We’ll see!”
If we’re honest, we all will admit
there are times when we don’t want to quit
doing things we enjoy
to do chores that annoy.
Others’ trust in us then takes a hit.
Having pondered this matter for years,
I proposed a grand plan to my peers.
All those folks who ignore
every tedious chore
would soon get around to it. Three cheers!
Our huge factory’s state of the art,
and production’s always off the charts.
The wood circles we make
are for everyone’s sake.
Folks are ordering them by the cart.
Nearly eight billion people reside
on the earth. Thanks to us, they can’t hide
from commitments to work;
duties they cannot shirk!
The round tuit rule now is applied!
No one else runs a round tuit plant,
so our chances of failure are scant!
If we should get behind
in production, we’d find
very quickly that millions would rant!
184 words
Round tuit--This play on "When I get AROUND TO IT" was first used at the 1964 World's Fair which was held in Queens (Flushing) NY.
(humorous) A circular object giving its owner the ability to get done everything that would have otherwise been put off to a later date "when they got around to it".
Round tuits can be bought online for a few dollars!
Date: May 13, 2020
entered in Caren Krutsinger's contest