Long Gossip Poems
Long Gossip Poems. Below are the most popular long Gossip by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gossip poems by poem length and keyword.
There are those who have fallen
in the eyes of this world,
one’s “sins” more damaging than the next.
“Skeletons from closets”
so ruthlessly hurled
and so many people are left vexed.
Now I do not condone
all that comes to light
whether by papers, radio or TV.
But what if it was YOU
whose “sins were in sight,
are there things you’d want others to see ?
The world does these things
and yet they judge,
from the arm of a pointed finger stare they.
But they conveniently hide
their “filthy sludge”,
and yet in His court they’ll have their day.
I wrote this in response to a prodding that wouldn’t leave me alone.
Thinking on some people who walk in the limelight or of a high public profile, I started to be
perplexed about our willingness to BROADCAST the latest Hollywood gossip or the latest
political “fall from grace”. I am in no way condoning unwarranted behaviors and these are
times that call for the appropriate action to be taken no matter who the offenders are. I’m
just saying shame on those who are so willing to point fingers and yet do or would do some of
the very same things if they could. Lightwalker
She spoke of things
That may have been
Troubling him
He looked at her
And cried
Yet might
I do those
Things with you
I will be
As wrong as
She is for making
Me trouble
Am I less a man
That I am faithful
I am worthless
And made villian of
That I must respond
To her ways
She begged him
To love that
She might not
Speak of him as
A punk.
His refusal made
Her curse about him
In conversations
Might make it
Harder for him to
Rebound and be
Happy, she. Speaks
Of him as a punk.
He hears her words
Thru the gossip of
Strangers and
Says only a
Woman can love
Me these souls
Are twerps who
Speak slang to
Gossip,
And thinks making
Men weak through
Surpression
Strengthens their
Cause.
Causes which are
Undefined and are
Socailly unproductive
Imagine if you please, how the seeds of trees first grow into mighty Ents.
Mythical tree beasts with twin trunks for legs and feet with roots for toes
Bodies all covered in lichen green bark, with branches for arms,
twiggy shoots for fingers and a shabby coat of green leaves.
A face with eyes, nose, ears, mouth cut into the bark.
Meet thee, Mr Ents! A lively pre-tree creature,
half-man, half-tree, half-true, half myth.
Born to become a mighty tree
when its two-score rings
old and what’s more,
by simply slowing
down with age
roots anchor
into the soil.
Ents can talk
grumble, gossip
wail away at night
singing their songs
they have ears you know
they can hear what you say.
And they love a hug and a cuddle
So its time my good friend
to go into the evergreen forest
to find and hug your own Mr Ent
when we are invisible we sit in silence
in a mouldy fish moth garage
ash brick cement crumbles slow
wondering if we should eat our fingers
while they gorge on decadence
wrapped in celebration glitz
when fast they did not
bodies swirl on beds
heads together
blood still splattering distended bellies
a new Gaia is birthing
when we are invisible we listen to
falsetto laughter ripple table laden
gossip ~ a bouquet lies thirsty
rose petals leaking slow tears whilst
ash brick cement crumbles slow
recreated memories exaggerated
fly across congested kitchen space
bodies swirl on beds
heads together
blood still splattering distended bellies
a new Gaia is birthing
when we are invisible we walk
beach sand where friends picnic
they see us not though smiling
we cross their chequered blanket
to join in cheese merriment raucous
ash brick cement crumbles slow
our frequency can only bypass
obesity complaining about
sandy sandwiches tomatoed
bodies swirl on beds
heads together
blood still splattering distended bellies
a new Gaia is birthing
when we are invisible dark or light
matters not, neither gunpowder
or champagne allures, hunger
and satiation is not an experience
invisibility not a cloak or mask
maybe point on translucent ouroboros
assessing other points just for the
hell of it ~ in all seriousness God
laughs either way because
invisibility and materiality is a single
coin in His-Her cosmic peg bag
bodies swirl on beds
heads together
blood still splattering distended bellies
ash brick cement crumbles s l o W
s l o w …ly
a new Gaia is birthing
quietly______slOw ly
Towering sycamores embraced, forming canopies over the streets.
Crime was unknown - (three part-time cops patrolled their beats.)
'Cept for teens in hot-rods who were bent on an occasional toot!
Folks were entertained as cops chased them in hot pursuit!
There was a Fourth of July parade with fireworks after dark.
Presbyterian and Baptist ladies served watermelon in the park.
Old vets in tight-fitting uniforms marched with resolute stride,
Followed by the school band in which the town took great pride!
The paperboy was prompt with the news to enjoy with a cup of joe,
(Tho' it usually landed in the bushes due to his ill-aimed throw!)
Folks greeted friends and neighbors with a hearty, "Howdy do!"
Pausing to swap a bit of gossip since they had little else to do!
Proms were held in the school gym and didn't leave a feller broke.
Idlers met at the barber shop to hear the latest risque joke.
Kids sold lemonade on their lawns for a dime a glass,
But urbane lads visited the ice cream parlor to treat their lass!
Church bells summoned worshippers on Sundays with clarion peal.
Moms invariably fixed chicken and dumplings for the Sunday meal!
I have many fond memories of small town life that I can't forget.
I return to relive those blissful days every chance that I can get!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
My Sons mean the world to me
They keep a smile on my face.
The love they keep in my heart Is a love that can't be replaced.
When my day is cloudy
Or if my day isn't so bright.
My Sons are my strength
They make all seem right.
My Sons make me laugh
When all seems so gloom.
They are gone from me now I hope to see them soon.
I don't want to be a "baby daddy" That term sounds so ugly.
I want to be a FATHER
As my Dad was to me.
He was always there for me
He taught me right from wrong.
He gave me strength
When I didn't feel so strong.
He taught me about girls
He taught me to stay away from drugs.
He was firm in his approach
But he did it with love.
He taught me how to tie a tie
Before I was twelve.
He taught me the good go to Heaven
& the bad go to Hell.
He taught me men shouldn't gossip
Men should always be strong.
The man should be the head of his family
That's where he belongs.
He taught me life lessons
He showed me how to be a man.
He said never do things blindly.
Always have a plan.
That's the kind of father I would like to be.
But it's so hard to do When My Sons are away from me.
I hope they know I miss them
I hope that they know that they are on my mind.
Please God don't let them forget me
Life shouldn't be this unkind.
Being with My Sons Is an absolute joy.
They are amazing.
I truly adore My boys.
I love everything about them
They are perfect in my eyes.
Lord please bring them back to me
Please hear my pleas & cries.
I miss My Sons I hate we're not together no longer.
Even though we're apart my feelings
For them has daily gotten stronger.
*****I Miss My Sons*****
Carry on through the struggle
carry on through the pain
carry on through it all
until you rise again
hide to survive
stay alive
then you’ll thrive
don’t capitulate
just wait for the fight
the enemy is mighty
but might he remain
you might be mighty
when you come to reign
now is the night
wait for the light
out of the darkness
shining so bright
you’ll be forgotten
they won’t know your name
or you can keep plotting
with victory is fame
you won’t be remembered
as one who surrendered
but you’ll be a treasure
fighting forever
you live on your knees
you beg and you plead
or rise to your feet
you can fight and compete
If you have the option
give up is not one
defeat must be forced on you
no one can force you too
there is much more to do
dig deep and force it through
if you give up
it’s because you lack will
success is a mental state
more than it is skill
it’s the act of resilience
unable to move
the fact that your brilliance
can’t be removed
they think it’s all over
well, it isn’t yet
you won’t rollover
you’ll give what you get
no act of closure
no way you will quit
everyone knows you
fight and you hit
fight to the end
grow strong and grow fit
creating your destiny
waiting and desperately
hate grotesque enemies
greatness eventually
All through the crux
never crushed
never beaten
never rushed
never weakened
patiently waiting
all the while underrated
steadying nerve
go forth with worth
never surrender give up or give in
making the memories of a time you did win
Some have ambitions to knock others down
Make your ambition to still be around
They will use gossip or slanderous sound
but you shalt be moved standing your ground
If you’re in the right
then just carry on
they don’t want a fight
they just want you gone
Julius Caesar not Napoleon Blownapart
defeat would be easier but for your heart
give it your mind give it your soul
giving your being giving it whole
victory at all costs that is your goal
they sit outside the penny candy store,
old men slap dominoes on chipped tables,
smoke curling up like prayers
their wives gave up saying.
i lean on the fire escape,
watch them call me mami
like it’s my birthright —
call me solid, thick like the block,
hips wide enough to hold the gossip
and still swing.
they say ju got that caramel skin,
that soft bite in your mouth
when you try to say sweet —
they say i’m loud, i’m stubborn,
i argue with my hands and my hips,
i got too much to say for a girl
that comes from stoops and window sills.
but this is my gospel —
my curvy body a prayer,
my no’s a sermon,
my laugh breaks their cigar smoke,
my name rides the domino slam —
mira, mami, this girl ain’t leaving
her corner for nobody.
...or In One Ear and Out to the Bridge Club...
Everybody likes a little gossip,
Everybody likes to hear a bit of dirt.
It brightens conversations,
And arouses shocked sensations,
And might cause some mild vexations,
But should never, never, never ever hurt.
What the neighbors do should be nobody's business,
It's not your fault if they don't keep their curtains drawn.
Besides, you're reasonably sure
That's what binoculars are for,
And if you hide behind your door,
What you can see them do by them is never known.
The Browns across the street are having problems,
He's been sleeping on the couch since New Year's Eve.
It seems those last two business trips
Involved some extra-marital "slips".
You're not adept at reading lips,
But gossip needn't be precise to be believed.
Yes, everybody likes a little gossip
To discuss at lunch, or brunch, or over tea.
To be aware of the mistakes
That almost everybody makes
Is all the skill and guile it takes
To be a gossiper, and not a gossipee.
There's nothing, nothing goin on
Same old small town, some old gossip goin round
That's what them haters be on
Visions and out of body experiences
My super-conscious laying it all out for me
Whatever, however, I'll do whatever it takes
to make it out this hell I'm in
I must remember the actual events
How close am I to the truth I am unaware
Is there any room for hope for a pardon of my sins
Will they revisited on my sons am I a cursed man
My plight is it a figment of my imagination
Or is it a reality I can't run away or escape from
I'm filled with questions and dread and a premonition
if I make the wrong moves my life may end
And everything at this point in my life
I consider it all to be sacred ground
Form: