Long Guiltily Poems
Long Guiltily Poems. Below are the most popular long Guiltily by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Guiltily poems by poem length and keyword.
Watermelons
Dull, thick, green rind with a creamy yellow behind,
From where on the ground, it sat waiting to ripen.
Round the gourd, the melon matured, bursting the gird;
With juicy, sweet liquid, and fresh succulent meat
(Ninety per cent water and six percent sugars)
Ready for consumption during the hot summer weather.
Carefully pick the vegetable from the bin;
Choosing the size, weight, and colour of the pepo.
And feel for firmness, then cradle, knock, and listen;
(Duller the thud the better) indicating ripeness,
Or employ other quirks to determine freshness.
Then wash, slice, and serve the delectable berry,
With bright red flesh, seed or seedless variety.
Etiquette is discarded when eating the melon,
As my teeth sink into Citrullus Lanatus
(Like a hot knife cutting into frozen butter)
As juices spurt out and run down the sides of my mouth,
While I guiltily look, as I piggishly eat
And slurp away, smiling, and spitting out the seeds;
This August 3rd on National Watermelon Day.
January 28 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Exodus 32-34
Key Verse– Exodus 32:29 For Moses had said, Consecrate yourselves to day to the LORD, even every man upon his son, and upon his brother; that he may bestow upon you a blessing this day.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY CONSECRATION POWER
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always going before me constantly
Thank You for pardoning me whenever I repent of my sins humbly
Forgive my evil thoughts of which I am ashamed guiltily
Please bring me to Your perfect will daily.
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always leading me toward Your worship mount
Thank You for inviting me to be on Your side, and never dismount
Forgive my vanities of worthless amount
Please guard from enemies only You can surmount.
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always carrying me to Your bestowed blessing
Thank You for warning me about plagues of rebelling and cursing
Forgive my disobedience that needs Your cleansing
Please accept me for my faith that desires to be well-pleasing.
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always keeping me in Your protection
Thank You for stripping me of my pride and selfish ambition
Forgive my attitude showing non-submission
Please guide me toward land flowing with milk and honey provision.
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always ushering me to Your tabernacle
Thank You for revealing to me Your mercy of glorious spectacle
Forgive my folly when earthly wisdom is all I want to tackle
Please help me find grace in Your sight to experience every miracle.
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always upholding me upon Your authority
Thank You for enclosing me within Your assured security
Forgive my transgression and iniquity
Please preserve me in Your truth’s integrity.
Lord God, You are my consecration Power…
Always shining on me Your glorious light
Thank You for speaking to me about Your love’s delight
Forgive my hypocrisy of disgusting blight
Please talk to me along prayer and Bible reading for divine insight.
January 28, 2023
Mine emotionally fraught days of yore
spilt presentiment tinged blood
into sucker punched battle fatigued
war weary veteran.
He (yours truly) doth
presently ramble, scrabble, and trundle
across gutted landscape
strewn with psychological potsherds.
Oppressive alienation hashtags me as outcast,
where new born babes technical abilities surpassed
scant infantile savviness (mine)
spurring notion, whereby yours truly
lived ages ago, when pace of life sedate
compared with present era in contrast.
Impossible mission to side step
cratered pock marked cerebral terrain
punctuating terra incognita courtesy disequilibrium
severely disrupting ability to function,
especially distractions issued out radio waves
regarding same Christmas songs
playing every hour.
I can't shake loose
being metaphorically entangled
cumulative detritus analogous geologic,
chronologic, and audiologic tracks laid down
since conception wrought
indelible grooves within noggin.
Risk averse demeanor
kept me hermetically sealed
against positive growth experiences
and (bully me)
not sequestered nor singled
out as token scapegoat,
whereby (wherein) psyche
relentlessly, quintessentially,
and painfully assaulted.
I too unwittingly, guiltily,
approvingly and willingly
allowed, enabled, and provided
unrepentant thugs to unleash brickbats
sticks and stones
(also Daily hurled at Georgie,
a Boxer/Dalmatian mix breed)
when our family Audubon, Pennsylvania.
Nevertheless, despite experiencing
horrendous childhood grievances,
I revere boyhood good times
a shy, (albeit rather socially withdrawn) kid
oblivious to danger
safely and securely affixed
to mother's apron strings.
Yepper, yours truly a bonafide mama's boy
severing figurative umbilical cord I could not deploy
even now as an aging baby boomer,
viz yule eyes long hair pencil necked geek,
I experience social anxiety,
when feigning hobnobbing amidst hoi polloi.
I am walking…
my footfalls…yellow and green
cause I am very green now
…and perhaps a little yellow
over the bridge that heard the first return …I wander
musket powder dusted rails remain in staunch salute
flickering time travelers catch in my mind’s eye
blood stained earth echoes
over there ….on the left by the rock and flag
My footfalls lay quietly down in dusty rainless soil
hard packed by sunlight and those whose paths…. are pilgrimage here
Depressions of heat waves flow in the dust, spin up…fall down
coat my bare toes
….and when it rains …if it rains…even for a moment…
it just creates dust waves
the drops do not sink in to nourish
crops have run dry… like my tears
no berries or busting fruit from my vines
my face is lined
Still I guiltily love the crest of sunlight each morning across my white walls shelves and selves
I know I need pray for rain…
I have hips pains, knee pains …but no rains
Still there is joy to be had and I have it!
a straw hat…a friend’s laugh…my glass of sparkling evening wine…
and blind trust
hope is chirping
like spring peepers
“All in good time …grasshopper...all in good time”
Written on July 13, 2012
Updated on May 3, 2013
Her fingers were flying
Typing too fast to stop
While she guiltily ignored
Her inner Internet cop.
She just couldn’t help typing
What she had to say
While clicking out words
To inflict Internet pain.
Would she regret this tomorrow?
Possibly so.
But not before damaging
Someone’s fragile ego.
If only she’d clicked
Numbers One through Ten
Instead of sending her words
to her future ex-Internet friend.
And the moral of this poem
If you are still reading this, my friend,
Is to not create Internet-wars.
Like all wars...
They are too harmful to mend.
Let’s Eat Something New This Christmas
(Parody of Have a Holly Jolly Christmas)
I can make some spicy tacos
better than the ones down south.
Please though know to eat them slow
or they may burn your mouth.
Try my sauciest lasagna
better than a Christmas ham.
Cheese galore – I like that more
than even roasted lamb.
Some get hung up on foods
so traditional.
My foods you cannot call
repetitional.
For dessert, there’s tiramisu.
I’m so sick of pumpkin pie.
Cookies crumble
so I grumble: why not new foods to try?
Christmas Balls,
(Parody of Jingle Bells)
Christmas balls, Christmas balls on my Christmas tree.
I’ve got a cat that’s such a rat beneath the tree he’ll pee -ee.
Christmas balls, Christmas balls, flying through the air.
When both cats get hold of them, they scatter everywhere.
One night I took a pause because I’d heard a crash.
Hoped it might be Claus bringing me some cash.
I saw my big dog’s face. She looked up guiltily.
To those darn cats she’d given chase destroying our tree! Oh!
Repeat refrain:
Christmas balls, Christmas balls on my Christmas tree.
I’ve got a cat that’s such a rat beneath the tree he’ll pee -ee.
Christmas balls, Christmas balls, flying through the air.
When both cats get hold of them, they scatter everywhere.
Two oldies:
I Heard Mother (to tune of "I Saw Mother Kissing Santa Clause")
I heard Mother scolding Santa's elf
As I prowled the house on Christmas Eve.
He'd hid in St. Nick's sleigh And then sneaked out to play
After having waited for his boss to fly away.
Mother caught him gobbling all our snacks
After he tore open every gift.
Oh, when she glared down at his face,
He went scrambling from our place
Screaming, "Santa, stop the sleigh-
I need a lift!"
New Body
Parody of the Xmas Song: White Christmas
I'm dreaming of a new body
with every chocolate I unwrap.
But I can't stop eating, I can't stop cheating.
There's just too many Christmas snacks.
My nightmare is a pot belly -with every Christmas treat I take.
But I can't stop feasting, my size increasing;
when I stand on the scales they'll break.
Yes, I'm dreaming of a trim waistline,
so take that Chex mix from my face.
May my buns be smaller and flat,
and may all my body lose its fat!
(I no longer make Chex Mix. It’s just too tempting)
Quietly I spoken, true words;
To shy to say;
Too shy to say out loud;
I love you!!
Spoken beautifully and loud and clear,
For the world to hear;
I say to myself God Oh Lord I love her;
I thing toe world of you girl, woman I love her, Oh!!
I am living a quiet night with my lonely heart;
Oh and I am guiltily quietly awaiting the return of affection;
Coming from you girl, I truly love you so...no more defections;
In the gardens.. pear trees blossoming from orchards and farms;
Love nests, pretty little mama's being lead by the arm;
Quiet nights and lonely hearts;
Bring past memories of days we're part;
Quiet nights at days end;
Depended on our love, my dearest friend;
There's a shadow of doubt;
Behind the world of pain;
A light of love all about;
Lonely hearts in vain
Day breaks and days ends;
And days spread away;
Quiet nights depends;
On lonely hearts at bay;
Those quiet nights depending on
Lonely hearts at bay;
Now that we're finally together...
This be the end of my quiet night and lonely hearts
11/16/70
9/11/70
Written words by James Edward Lee©1970, 2019
Written @ North High School 1970 for Class assignment
Diminishing virtues stripped away
From the flesh
By the fierce brined rods that freely
Course thy hot crimson blood;
Dry cracked lips attempting to
Fashion broken words of compliance
That so must needs to be spoken...
But...Ohhh, Meretrix...
My foolish and innocent child -
If you but only could!
Consider, Meretrix,..humility!
To which pleasure one thus
Submitted
Guiltily discovers:-
The joy in the act or posture of
Lowering oneself in relation to
Others.
For in your anguished dis-repair
You will find strength to endure and
Embrace:-
The acceptance of all your defects
And ultimate seduction
In the power of your:-
"Submission to Divine Grace"!
I will adorn you in the yellow Toga
Of the Vestal virgins,
They whom wise Augusta did abhor;
Burden upon you with an Imperial
Tax
Imposed by perverted Caligula:
Whither all Matronly protestations he
Didst dismissively ignore;
My Tribune forcefully exact -
When employing you in the
Degenerated role
Of my most reluctant Whore!
Clasp jeweled anklets abouts your
Shapely bones,
Decorate upon you like fired and
Painted porcelain figurines;
Whilst all the while, as your lost mind
Bemoans,
Choking between involuntary gurgles
And low-pained, stifled screams,
The gagged mouth bites down
Amidst salivating sounds
Borrowed from the hurtling
Nightmares
Of your darkest dreams!
For I will lift you higher than the
Tallest mountain peak...
So you may gaze with awe over all
The innumerable Kingdoms and their
Proud tyrant Kings;
Of the many differing species of all
Mankind type things...
And of the immeasurable riches
They so endlessly seek.
Lower you to the solitudes of the
Grassed floors
That sweep across the sunken
Valleys deep;
Where, besides enchanted streams,
Violated Nymphs quietly weep
For Abels broken schemes;
Now, tragically, all taken apart;
And for the wicked callousness
Of fallen man...
Whose desperate greeds ripped out
His live brothers still beating heart -
Then tore at the living throat of
The one true Gods Holy Lamb!
TO BE CONTINUED...
The day the internet stopped working, I opened the door and let my face embrace the breeze of cold air,
I looked around to find dainty plants for which I never cared.
After a long time, I stepped out of my house and strolled through the park for a while,
Funnily, I felt as if I had walked a mile!
I stopped and was astonished at the sight that beheld my eyes,
'Oh dear!' people are conversing with each other and being nice!
I sat on a huge rock at the corner of the park,
Soon I realized it was getting dark.
After ages, I looked up at the sky contrary to my daily routine of looking down at my mobile screen,
'So that's what they call sunset!' I happily scream.
For a moment I felt my life was a lie,
I guiltily looked at the Earth, for which I never batted an eye.
A familiar sound shook me out of my thoughts,
I was notified that the internet connection was back and I was pulled back into the same knot.
It’s a chill and rainy Saturday night in New Haven - it’s Superbowl eve! My roommates Leong, Anna and Lisa and I were playing a game of Upwards - it’s a scrabble-like word game and we’re all strangely super competitive.
My phone went “dunk!” A happy ‘Water jug’ sound messages make when they're from one of my favorites. The message was from Charles. He was at the front gate with a package that came to the house where Charles and Mrs. Charles live (about 600 yards from the dorm). He passed me the package through the bars at the main gate, “Thanks,” I said, “ga-night,” and he was gone.
Back in my room, I ripped the box open like Christmas morning. The word game could wait - this package was from Paris. The light beige, Jacquemus, ‘Les Ballerines mary-jane pumps’ I’d ordered (forever ago) had arrived and they fit like soft leather gloves.
“Ooo! Glampse!” Lisa pronounced.
“Aren’t they?” I agreed, swiveling my hooves to show them off in the full length mirror.
When I rejoined the Upwards game, talk had shifted to tomorrow's Superbowl.
“I read yesterday that Taylor’s on her way (to the Superbowl)!” Leong declared.
“I like that she likes the NFL now,” I said.
“A lot of people hate her for it,” Anna countered.
“She was on camera twice, for 11 seconds total, in a 3-1/2 hour long game. If that upsets you, you’re bringing a lot of your own baggage to the plot.” I updogged.
Leong wants to order vegan “wings” for the SuperBowl.
“What, exactly, are those?” I asked, apprehensively.
“You’re the girl who talked me into trying buffalo-frog-legs in Paris? Ney?” Leong enquired, sarcastically.
“Yeah,” I admitted, guiltily, “but they were delicious,” I said in self defense.
I’m picking the Chiefs 30-20 over the niners.
.
.
glampse = glamorous