Long Get to the bottom of Poems
Long Get to the bottom of Poems. Below are the most popular long Get to the bottom of by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Get to the bottom of poems by poem length and keyword.
Definitely the place to devour corruption corrupt city officials so valid and vile orchestrated by a fatal attraction who slept with my spouse wearing a rubber badge from a strip club in Tampa bay shooting into my home to attack my livelihood to extort my American poetry my blessings are I arrived in spring field Illinois 1969 from Joseph medill elementary school of journalism Chicago Illinois where I sat singing civil rights hymns at Abraham Lincoln home sadly my stalker from Tampa decided to end my life over my identity obsessed with my growing up in Chicago meeting cicely Tyson this imposter tried to murder me she actually stooped to an all time low to take down corrupt city officials with her I feel sad this person that obsessed with my American poetry I’m not a scholar I’m just a write a quote from Gwendolyn Brooks I think it is sad to have stalkers obsessed with your life enough attempt to murder you god bless America god bless American writers and poets stalkers are out there preying on your work I pray I could be a living example of this horrid extortion if not living in death I pray I die for this sheer terror on American soil Ciro Gargano was obsessed with me he hired jay Townsend Johnson Henry to become me after death and cover several arson murders the reason the FBI warned me telling me my life was in danger this resulted in my wearing wires pregnant buying weapons and drugs from Ciro garganos corrupt dealers my life was threatened and this stalker plotted my death I reached out to the federal bureau of investigation Chicago but I believe my being emotionally traumatized left me alone I pray the Supreme Court justice get to the bottom of government scum hiding behind Jamaican isis drug dealers in Tampa bay you’re going to have to kill me dear I am Chicago I am America I'm unafraid of stalkers domestic terrorists comprised dat abuse of power intimidation bullying identity fraud in America God bless America
Owakuhona-oru!
The name given to me by my father,
Meaning,"if at all I go through this!"
It was during the November famine,
Of the late 1999 that I was birthed;
By a young woman of roughly eighteen,
To a young man in his mid-twenties;
In a home that lives on one meal per day,
Moreover not a buffet,but peanuts.
When a family is befallen by calamity,
They all lament with those words.
When a naughty boy is suspended from school,
Parents still mention the words as they're stranded.
For every bad thing that someone meets,
In a dream or movie or even real life,
They call out my name.
Like I am the genesis of all poverty and evil,
In this world that is so unfair,even to me.
Names are not only labels but spells;
At whose mention, sleeping spirits awake,
Bringing with them all that killed them;
Disease,war,hunger,anger,stress,poverty!
But my father called me by that name,
Which he still refers to,
When officers are hunting him down,
For bills and loans unpaid;
Like I am the reason for his problems.
Owakuhona-oru?
Why would someone do that,
To their firstborn babies?
I'll get to the bottom of this,
Till I know the reason behind this name,
Before I continue cursing the tongue,
That I think regretted my arrival.
Perhaps, I will ask the man himself,
To understand what he was thinking at that time.
I stood under the tree
to see how tall I could be
but the roots kept getting longer
and the branches got broader.
The root is what you cannot see
because it is buried beneath the rock in the sea
the core of the root contains the transport pipe
that takes everything to the tree and absorb
all the nutrients from the sea.
I watch the fishermen come and go
rowing from shore to shore
catching big fish in their nets
while they cross the valley of death.
the seas are rough
and they cause the people to fuss
some people made it out alive
but others have to pay hefty human sacrifice
there is something lingering in the sea
that you must bail out for me
it's bigger than me
and it has caused mankind to flee
you must get to the bottom of the sea
to see what that thing could be
It’s terrifying to see
but take courage and get it for me.
Take me to the rock that is growing in the sea
there is something that you have got to see
What could that be?
Given he choice between winning the lottery,
And changing my Doctor,
I'd stick with the Doctor I have.
There is only one other I have more faith in than my Doctor,
To get to the bottom of any health issues I may have.
He always orders the right tests,
And goes easy on the pills.
All the money in the world,
Is no good if your Doctor is a pill pusher,
With the belief that being overwhelmed,
Is the same as being depressed.
I shudder to think where my health would be at,
If my Doctor was not my Doctor.
I am halfway through my Chemotherapy,
Mainly due to my Doctor,
Who went to bat for me, to overturn a refusal,
On the request for a colonoscopy,
Without which I would not have even started Chemotherapy.
Form:
There were many concerns over negative talk about leadership. The news bearers seemed poised to take a stand for 'righteousness'. Then, there was an examination of the communications and corrections. After weighing the pros and cons of possible actions and options to be taken, the consensus was to leave matters as they were, because 'fix it' measures may very well have exacerbated the problem. There was the fear that the suggested cure would not have brought a resolution, and the proposed 'fix' would have been worse than the 'fault'. Let's beware of the 'pricey fix' because it can be downright amusing to come to the realization that there are times when the 'do nothing attitude' is wiser than one that says, 'Let's get to the bottom of this'.
01182018 PS
I pull out Pollyanna me because it is my go-to-game-plan.
It usually works. Not this time.
I am too happy.
Too upbeat, too enthusiastic.
I tone it down a bit, and try to get to the bottom of things.
Put on my listening face, throwing my Robin Williams act to the wind.
Let’s go in here, I say, where I can hear what you are saying.
I give her full listening mode.
My face is straight.
I do not add words.
I am concerned.
I give her my most empathetic looks.
She gradually trusts me.
Tears are coming now.
We hug.
I feel better, she says.
I am glad for her.
It is not over, but maybe now she can find the tree
And punch her way out of the brambles of the forest.
And I'm concerned, afraid, got the railroad crossing blues and the jazz that plays so low and desolation looms like the ghost of Christmas past/ And the band wraps up and it's time to go home but the blues is still crawling around inside my head like desolation and the lone watchman/on the peak is scrawling poems like rattlesnakes' bites/ And the blues plays low and sweet and melancholy/While the train whistle sounds so lonely in the deep night/ and this is what I do the jazz the blues drenched in sweat and staggering in the lonely night/ This is an intro into my world, my poems, my sound, culminating in a book called Beat, writings & Ramblings published by book fuel and on sale at amazon/ end of plug/ Late in the evening and thinking of Kerouac and Ginsberg
and wondering where I fit in/ but the train don't run here no more no more, the train don't run here no more/ The jazz played on and on and we partied and smoked and never looked back but that was yesterday and today I type and set loose words upon a page that no-one will read but the b-bop cats and jive masters/ always wondered what happens when you get to the bottom of this page/ be-bop be-bop and the forgotten words meshed into something altogether
different/ This is who I am
She tries to raise her right, hoping to win the good fight
Praying that her daughter is safe and trying to feel right
Never seems considered with the unimportance of everything
If love were items, get a bigger table for what she brings
Her heart and mind are full but inside seeming to disagree
She never asks for anything more than days being pain free
Life was not ever given and she does not expect it will be
But everyone knows life is not meant to be lived in misery
One day she will get to the bottom of what is plaguing her
School and work are diversions in between times to recover
She is open-heartedly candid and singular in a lot of ways
Living her life under the sun looking for any sort of rays
Five years on from writing this,
My doctor I could kiss,
As my children do not, me have to miss,
And my grandson has given five years of bliss,
We now have identical twin grandsons for me to bless.
My yard is less,
Of a mess,
With my health better than before the cancer almost found success,
In handing death my address,
And to the cat my crimes I can still confess,
My poems continue to caress,
Helping others to progress,
And grandads slippers have avoided a bin toss.
A win in lotto may yet to me come across,
The pension is still free of moss,
Of the remote control I am still the boss,
When others are not at a loss,
And my good fortune every day I bless.
With crumbs I still make a mess,
And of chocolate I still seek more not less,
A smile from a lady still excites I confess,
I could kiss my doctor for all of this,
And the opportunity to seize yet another day,
Before death comes my way.
I Owe My Doctor Big Time
Given he choice between winning the lottery,
And changing my Doctor,
I'd stick with the Doctor I have.
There is only one other I have more faith in than my Doctor,
To get to the bottom of any health issues I may have.
He always orders the right tests,
And goes easy on the pills.
All the money in the world,
Is no good if your Doctor is a pill pusher,
With the belief that being overwhelmed,
Is the same as being depressed.
I shudder to think where my health would be at,
If my Doctor was not my Doctor.
I am halfway through my Chemotherapy,
Mainly due to my Doctor,
Who went to bat for me, to overturn a refusal,
On the request for a colonoscopy,
Without which I would not have even started Chemotherapy.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2019
Although I am doing my best to wrap my brains around all of this, there's just no way to dismiss some meaningful things I dearly miss. Quarantining for the purpose of containment of a deadly virus is something we have to live with for the survival of all of us.
This morning about a half-past six, I became fixated on a venue that had to be curtailed because of the CoronavirusCOVID 19. The venue was very meaningful to the group, and as I thought upon the beauty of the Tuesday mornings we shared, I began to write. It's easy to think about what was, when it's hard to do something new. For nearly two years I have met with a few other men for breakfast. By the way, to all concerned, methinks this is a good time to make it clear that it isn't true that we only talk about cars, sports, and weather forecasts.
Anyway, initially, I thought that I could never appreciate and be an integral part of something that did not have prayer or Bible as the centerpiece of its focus. But as I meditated on the matter, I dared myself to do something different and began to like the entire idea. It was basically a 'Get-together about nothing'. I recalled that one of my best TV shows was 'a show about nothing'.
The beauty of nothingness can be seen in an atmosphere where there is no agenda. The platform is open, the plan is tossed, and the props are removed and demolished. The purpose is certain and always Christian based, but the process is a mystery. It's an 'outside the box' experience where things could go over the top, but there is no yearning to get to the bottom of things. It's a time of 'just let it happen, or not'. It's a potluck of fellowship and familiarity where nothing of certainty is brought to the table, but where a heart full of substance is always taken from the table. It's a gathering where life is fluid and flows like a peaceful river. It's a river that's very aware that its greatest asset is its tributaries. The beauty of nothingness is not a preplanned analysis of skin-deep or beneath the surface modeling; but rather, it is an ocean of discovery. On this early Tuesday morning, I'm quarantined and ok, but I'm missing something.
033120PoSp