Long Graft Poems
Long Graft Poems. Below are the most popular long Graft by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Graft poems by poem length and keyword.
Today is Constitution Day
By Franklin Price
9/17/2016
Today is Constitution day
Accepted many years ago
Our government defined therein
Explains how things should go
Politicians of today
Honor it when they see fit
If it doesn't follow what they want
They deviate more than a bit
Works fairly well, most of the time
Though none have read it much
Claim ignorance of the law that's there
Don't have to stay in touch
The longer they're in office
Seems the more that they ignore
It's time now to replace them
And vote them out the door
When replacements know the reason
The Constitution they may read
And follow what is written there
Which is not graft and greed
I know I am an optimist
And I will be 'til I die
To find an honest politician
Is like grabbing pie out of the sky
The throb deep in the jaw
Nothing else feels quite so sore
Can think about nothing but pain
This is like a brutal campaign
Trying to urgently ring a dentist
Needing pain relief from the chemist
No appointments for several days
Why all the unnecessary delays
Feeling the pain behind my eyes
The intolerable pain is my demise
Nothing even dims this pain
Wanting to slice out the vein
The pain relentless
Working out how I could of prevented this
I brush those teeth twice a day
And the pain doesn’t stay away
The dentist told me to wait 14 weeks
To get that thing pulled from between my cheeks
What an absolute joke
I could have a bloody stroke
Can’t see a doctor or go to a hospital
Just keep putting on something topical
The state of basic public services
Is enough to cause disturbances
Oh I pray the pain to vanish
To a place it can banish
Before the next one comes to have a play
All in an effort to ruin every day
This won’t stop until the bone graft my jaw
The next couple of years I’ll be eating through a straw
Because public services are so woeful
And we are told to be grateful
That wide open plan,
The desktop area so spacious,
A vast canvas so beautiful;
Why do you sit there,
Open to all for their curiosity?
When you to me call.
Oh cupboard, that hard disk brimming with identity,
Memory no problem, even lacking files;
Proficiently organised with raging delight,
Amorous filing system which you employ.
All disks are obvious, seen by me,
Begging to be viewed, added to or changed,
Offering usage stats and permissions,
That are not just the programmer’s privilege,
But any users' decree.
No LOGO, no dos,
No text-based system to beat,
No floppies to be distorted,
By the drives' magnetic wheels.
Encrypted files are offered,
But that requires some introspection,
About whether or not your loved one,
Would really infiltrate your disk,
And read your documents.
My computer is a reflection of me,
My order or my mayhem;
No longer my prowess and endeavour,
‘Cos my articulations are my graft,
Not the machine’s mechanisations.
Ever seen a warrior beaten by an armless nincompoop,
Whom he could have maimed and vanquished?
A pilot swimming through murky waters,
Having ignored the benefits flights so furnished?
A gay prisoner of want who stalks fellow men
When damsels fast that he takes notice of them;
A sailor towards west when his itinerary should be bound towards North!
A singer of archaic lines when it’s available a novel anthem.
I saw a young man of age so green and untutored
Plunge into the sea of graft and improvident lasses
While all banners screamed that it was a no-go zone
For them that want to live when tomorrow passes.
How do you tether a goat and yet have it free,
Or how can you be there and still absent be?
No wishing of life loved the scent of death;
A flying bird isn’t perturbed by a mongoose’s chase!
Folly consumes like the teeth of rust
And no failure can quench its lust
To maim and bite and condemn;
To gnaw with malice from twig to stem.
You’ll lose your bag and still lose your leg;
You’ll suffer shame and incur every curse
For the sand has never staunched its want of water,
And none can inhibit the flow of gas!
SUFFERING PAIN GRIEFS HURT DEFINED I WAS-
Suffering pain griefs
Hurt I was defined
To inflict with mental pain: Wounded
Was seriously hurt within my physical self
You're hurting my arm!
To do substantial soul harm so: DAMAGED
Caused emotional pain or anguish to: OFFEND
Never meant to hurt, placed in remorse
Got feelings so I hurt
Detrimental to: HAMPERRED
Charges of graft soiled chances of being in pangs
Feelings rain
Suffering pain griefs
Mental host, hurting such
Freedom in me to be in need
To cause damage or distress
My source cause of injury or damage
Weathering clouds of doubts the hurts of so many of us
A bodily injury or wound mentally, physically, spiritually
Mental or emotional distress or anguish
: SUFFERING WRONG, HARM
to inflict with mental pain : Wounded
Hurt I was defined
1/19/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
The Stone Mask
My pride is a heavy mask of ashen stone upon a cheek of smoke,
a tower of gray slabs built high on a brow the long road burned and broke,
I boast that I alone can fix whatever life caves in upon my chest,
but beneath the cold armor weeps a child who has never truly known rest.
I am an old and weary child, my eyes drifted off to another land,
I've never known the warm luxury of leaning on a gentle hand,
I've carried shadow-boulders on my crown like a wandering mountain range,
and I called them strength, when they were only fear in a diamond dress, strange.
My head is a shattered quarry where the black blocks break loose and fall,
cubic thoughts collapse inside of me like a dying silver sky's sprawl,
every stone is a silence I once swallowed raw and let grow cold,
every crack is the scream I never allow to be heard or told.
I grew up walling myself into solitude like a muted shrine,
my only prayer was to ask nothing of anyone, down the whole line,
I made a banner of my helplessness, of pride a bed for sleep,
forgetting that even the mightiest trees fall with no hands to keep.
Come, break this mask of mine apart like an old crust of weathered clay,
let the tired infant inside me breathe his first thought into day,
let him stretch out in the tender light like soft grass after the rains,
and learn that reaching for a hand is not a fall, but a graft that sustains.
Perhaps my column of stones will then dissolve into a flight of bees,
perhaps my shoulders will turn to wings instead of walls of ruined debris,
perhaps I'll sleep for the very first time without my guard of steel,
an old child who at last leans trusting toward a sky he can feel.
I.
They came in here uninvited,
look for a gap and then slip past,
then demand we give them welfare,
draining us all to live off graft,
costing the people a fortune
in the hospitals and the schools,
while paying into none of it,
and playing our country for fools.
Ones who work take blue collar jobs
so Americans can’t provide,
work for illegal low wages
that their employers try to hide.
Many are tied to cruel cartels,
trafficking their own kind for sex,
murdering all who defy them,
often cutting heads from the neck.
It seems a week doesn’t go by
when a girl’s not murdered or raped
by an illegal once let go
by leftist pols and magistrates.
It seems a month cannot pass by
when aliens, driving big trucks,
who can’t ready English hit something,
taking lives, causing pile-ups.
Some corrupt leaders protect them,
would like to see us all replaced,
the leftists like the cheap labor
(They’re still mad we freed all their slaves!)
But I ask why should we welcome
those who will not respect our laws?
Rule of law is why we won out,
the truth of this all men once saw!
To welcome those who have made clear
that when pressed they’ll do what they want,
means giving up our greatest tool
for cheap workers in restaurants!
To live alongside drug cartels
since the media cries ‘racist’
is not something to tolerate,
we don’t have to live with this sh-t.
Why welcome those who practice what
made their won societies grim?
These people don’t share our values,
there’s no reason to let them in.
“To what avail are scriptures etched on stones~
If it’s true, we must feel it in our bones”
-Unseeking Seeker.
The scriptures needed to be before their eyes,
Words spoke to their hearing,
Didn’t avail much,
It didn’t seat in their hearts,
The scriptures were engraved on stones,
But they were not written in their hearts,
It was a worthless effort,
They fell short and erred in many ways,
Wearied by their continuous transgressions,
He sought a way to embed
His words perpetually in their hearts,
To graft His precepts forever in their chambers,
Laid and built upon,
Until it became a mirror,
Through which they saw
their deeds and misdeeds,
Through which we stand justified.
April 25, 2022.
Languishing in a limbo of roles
perpetually gleaning
reading ripe tombs and myths
a child, a child dreaming
parroting fancies in pretty pink
braiding wisps on a razor straps edge
the perfect daughter to become
when all that was wanted was a son…
life passed by for the adult child
caring for mother, sister, brother
never really finding a meaning of she
mothering mother
friend and companion to father
oh where was she?
excel… a touch tones sympathetic plight
graft the colors, the paint the light, the mold
the seemingly endless mission…life
languishing in a limbo of roles
captured waif, soldered wife
pie baker, clothes maker, gardener
twist the seam of an unknown dream
thirty years on hold
half a lifetime, square peg in a round hole
then she came, who was she you ask
why me, myself and I
bloom on a rose I saved me
stepped off the cross
and became.....me
Contest The Right Time
Poet: D. Guzzi
A Political Opinion
For 12-17-2019
By: Tom
Washington has become,
a huge political gabfest.
If I were grading,
they’d flunk my test.
Doing very little,
many consider worthwhile.
Sure makes it difficult,
to conjure up a smile.
Many exist on perks,
and have chauffeur driven cars.
Feeding egos with camera time,
like most Hollywood stars.
Most all will become rich,
due to political graft.
Being second to none,
when applying their craft.
I’ve heard too much talk,
concerning swamp draining.
But it remains business as usual,
and our world image they’re staining.