Long Give Poems
Long Give Poems. Below are the most popular long Give by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Give poems by poem length and keyword.
Who will make the bread if everybody is dead
Who will get the children out of bed and get them
And put on their shiny shoes and take them to school
If everybody is dead who will cut the lawn
When I wake up at dawn and just before the break of day
Who will wipe my tears away the mountain is very high
And my vision is resting in the sky but on destiny I will rely.
If everybody is dead, who will make up the bed
Who will make my favorite tea and who will go
Walking with me by the sea, and when the sun comes up
Who will sunbath on the beach and watch the fishermen
When they go fishing in the deep blue sea? I will never exchange a gown for a crown or bargain with you when I grow old, I will plant a sword in the ground to seal the promise that I will never die for redemption is buried in the lining of the sky.
I have a hunger for life but I just cannot get enough to bite
There is so much that I want to do, to make your dreams come true, it’s already done but you must get if off the ground and wrap it around your waist and give it some space to lead the way.
Who will build the wall and take the family to the mall if everybody is dead and when I am tired of surfing who will keep my company in the morning? You have to go paragliding to get it right and night dancing to see the light and then we will end the vicious fight. I have a special passion for life and I will live
So take me to the gym to build my muscle and strengthen the vessel and end the painful tradition of man killing man.
I’ve grown a mouth that’s so,
sharp.
Cruel.
When anyone gets near,
I bite with my quick words.
Leaving nothing but a scar.
It’s all I can give you.
And when you come,
And steal a kiss,
My teeth,
will only cut your lips.
And I wanted to so bad,
But it seems,
I only break pretty things.
I know you meant well,
but I’m not a vessel for your good intent.
I will only wring you dry.
Leaving you with nothing.
but your bones,
Brittle and cold.
I’m sorry,
I’m not what you’ve asked for.
But you need abandon.
All your stupid dreams,
Of what you wanted me to be.
You gotta know,
that this won’t last.
But if you’re blind to that,
I am fine with that.
I am naked and I am hurting.
I have just been born.
My Daddy beat my Mummy.
While I was inside her.
I am naked and I am hurting.
I am eight years old.
I know my Mummy and Daddy
do not love each other.
I am naked and I am hurting.
I am eighteen years old.
The boy I loved broke my heart.
On my birthday.
I am naked and I am hurting.
I am twenty eight years old.
I realised the man I married
does not care for me.
I am naked and I am hurting.
I am forty eight years old.
My children have abandoned me,
because I left to save my life.
I am naked and I am hurting.
I have never been touched
with true love.....Yet...
I have so much love to give,
my heart is bursting
Shuddering awake in a plane
32000 feet above home, family,
Commitment
Right
Clown inside me thinks he's cute
The poet sticks to the shadows
"Laugh and the world laughs with you
Cry and you cry alone"
Tired of being alone
Tired of numb laughter
And superficial appeal
I'll be false
To get your attention
I'll be false to drive you away
You think you want
This bag of crumpled dreams
Look away
And fasten your seat belt
Flying over it all
Gets rough sometimes, too
I don't even know why
I talk to you
We're just each other's fantasy
If you were for me
You would have fallen
Right into my lap
Not into my computer
Not who I want to be
Right now, anyway
And you don't feel like a friend
More like a f**k buddy
I'm too desperate
I want something to hold onto
But something real
Not you
Young and beautiful
Looks good on me
Feels good on me
But it won't stay
And, yeah, I know
I feel good to you
Like an old comfortable shoe
'til the laces break, the leather cracks
I don't shine no more
And what's left of me
Isn't worth wearing out
Uh-huh I'll still be "raging
Against the dying of the light."
But still go into that tender night
Just wish you
Felt more like
a friend
We're so high now
I can barely make out a road
Or a roof top
But I can see shadows
Cast down from clouds below
On Colorado mountain tops
And it's smooth sailing
I need someone to be true to
These words would drive you away
Quit playing
Know what's for me
Not settle for whatever I can get
And I'll be lonely
Like out the window, New Mexico
Desert stretches wide empty
What I'm used to
And you're the East Coast
Lush, pretty, temperate, hydrated
I'd devour you
(Like I just did)
And never want to leave
But I'm still the desert
And you're the trees
How much will we drink of
Each other
The clown's rising
Bad timing
But keeps me from
Being lonely
When life hurts
And too free
When it doesn't
Over the Apache White Mountains
Descending enough to see
Lake's drying up
I don't want go home
Poet talking now
Clown
When we touch ground
If not here, where
If not her, who
We're on our way
Give us a spin
I like you, girl
Gentle landing
Phoenix (a cool 103)
Seems like I'm
Almost
Never
Home
Everyone can be a critic.
Few can take criticism.
I’ve seen the results of youthful play
The paths half-buried of sandy ethics
The holes and pitfalls of reliance
Mounds of dirt clods and chocolate chips
Success tastes so fine –
Like a drink of ice cold water
On the last lap of decision
‘Cause we are all infinite genius
We know what we know –
Because we intended to be ominous
We have all the answers –
For our same redundant questions
So don’t point your finger at me
Waiting for a solution
To your petty-proud, little-lot life
My knowledge will pierce your pupils
Blister your lips
Bruise your belly
Crush your pride
I am a steel-toed construction boot
You are an insect
Don’t play checkers on my chess board
It’s a risk taken with a master madman
With a proven method of interpreting your ideas
Full intentions of beating you
At your own game
In your own home
Give me a reason to frown upside down.
~Friendship Bracelets~
(Shadorma)
Beautiful
Nice friendship bracelets
Colorful
So pretty
I love making them all time
And wear them, they're great!
Folks like them
Many make them too
Some wear them
Some sell them
Many just give them away
To a special friend
Wonderful
Are friendship bracelets
With threads knotted
Made with love
And ready then just to wear
On your very wrist
Just like them
Very much indeed
I believe
They're so cool
Very neat in every way
Not so hard to make
I make them
One, two, three, four, just
Follow steps
All the way
With any colours chosen
And number of threads
They are fun
To wear all the time
They're so nice
They look great
In any color you want
They are just awesome!
All handmade
Make them all with love
So special
A great gift
Some take a long time to make
But all is worthwhile.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
Copyright@2015
October.07.2016
~ Author's Notes:
The " Shadorma " is a poetry form or style.
Our exquisite Queen of passion
Rides on a dazzling white horse
Within her hand she wields a pen
Describing adventures of course
She takes us to many places
So our own psyches we can explore
To the thoughts of former lovers
Or through imaginary doors
Within her realm she is fearless
A true warrior of the mind
Some say the passion whisperer
She can give color to the blind
The fountain of her thoughts endless
With her we travel back in time
To former days of gallantry
As we engage in every line
Mesmerized by her artistry
As we follow her where she goes
Eileen's sexy has no limits
Ooh la la licious as it flows
Dedicated to Eileen, our queen of passion.
Those two days the brief hours saliently witnessed
A pristine noteworthy bout, a piece of history perhaps;
The lustful error when gods mate with the mortal type
And the walls between saints and sins of ether collapse.
Does a god fallen from the airs wander in the bosom of the earth,
Or does he his wounded wings renew with balm for a return above?
The error of a sovereign does not allow his stay among the minions;
Princes mustn’t give pigs their pearls, nor should pigs show them love.
Such was the case that ill-fated Saturday evening
When drunken Adonis left his ornate honored throne
To frolic with a stupefied Demeter exiled by passion
And untamed need from the earth’s most arid horn.
Adonis is reminded of his error by some mystic impulse
But finds his flightless self entombed in lay transience,
Demeter, a lesser deity by many counts, lures him to stay
But he has to obey the lyrical call of the fallen Alcaeus.
He finds himself reciting an Alcaic verse,
“I now can fly at will…”at last he discovers!
THE ENEMY WITHIN
She’s in there arguing with my affirmations.
She's sabotaging my dreams.
She kicks my best decisions in the derriere.
She confuses my left brain, my god brain,
And she encourages the repetitive behavior
That never worked in the past;
She overrules the changes made by my spirit mind.
She never allows the cognition, of sane
Behavior to take the reins. She reassures me that I am fine.
She has redirected my thoughts so that concentration,
And gumption never sees eye, to eye.
Then she exercises and builds up her strength,
As I do nothing.
She loves me and comforts me
Whenever I am lethargic, and she tells me
The best thing to do is nothing.
Whenever I manage to call in the troops of my adrenalin,
She conquers them with fear. She provides the lie that
My one voice is never going to be enough.
and tells me I will never be heard, and that
I will never be the mercenary of change so I relent.
I give in to the enemy within.
The only antidote I know is to tell my friends,
And they who stand with me can chant and pray...
And purge her from my system.
“Will you point the way”-
Will you please help me.?
Help me, to fight injustice,
Help me to restore integrity?
Help me to say no poverty.
Help me to defy authority.
Lend me a hand
As a poet and a friend,
Help to end the rule of this enemy
That dwells within.
I will be stronger if you do.
I am out of wit, only you can replace it.
If I run out of time – Only you can carry on;
If I run out of love, can you give me some?
I am out of ammunition,
And I cannot fight the world alone.
I cannot ask God before asking my kindred beings.
God will ask me why I passed up my fellow man,
To get to him.
My prayer is to be replenished.
What God has started; He will surely finish.
But he needs me to ask you for help as my friends,
To demolish this enemy that dwells within.
When I am stronger you can lean on me again,
Together, we 'll claim the victory,
Over this ill-advised enemy... That lives within me.
“Well, Dad, I’m off to good old Princeton, the college of our dreams”
“Yes, son, won’t be long and you’ll be Vice-President of my corporate team”
"So, son, are you taking any business courses this semester?”
“Well, Dad, I thought I’d give that Princeton tiger a test or --
you know, get my required courses out of the way first”
“I see, my son, I see. So what’ll it be: English, Physics, trigonometry?”
“Well, Dad, actually it’s everyone’s favorite class on campus”
“In what discipline, son? In what field?”
“Well, Dad, it’s in anthropology”
“Anthropology? Why, that’s for stoned-out freaks who hang around the Plaza”
“Well, Dad, not really. Um, er... It's #1 in popularity.
-- It’s a course on the intersection of gender studies
~ and the genocide in Gaza”
(Gulping): “Son, can you describe the contents of this ‘campus favorite’ to me?”
“Well, Dad: ‘Drawing on decolonial, indigenous and feminist thought, we examine
how genocidal projects target reproductive life, sexual and familial structures, and
community survival.”**
“Gadzooks! Guess you won’t be needing my old beaver coat at Princeton. Heh-heh… Now tell
me, son: How is this intersectional genocide course gonna pay for the mortgage and groceries
at all?”
“Well, Dad ~ Isn’t that YOUR JOB, old buddy, old pal?”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
** Taken verbatim from an article on Princeton by Peter D'Abrosca of Fox News, today's date.