Long Helping Poems
Long Helping Poems. Below are the most popular long Helping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Helping poems by poem length and keyword.
anticipated Albany albatrosses
buried bumpy bugs beyond the bay
creepy curious cats dug them up
dinner for dogs they said in disgust
even the dogs turned up their snouts at the bugs
frenzied finicky felines are crazy they barked
giant crows arrived and devoured the gruesome bugs
helping themselves to six or eight at a time
I am glad these raptors showed up said the dogs
jealousy in no way entering their heads
kilt-wearing albatrosses happened along
lingering close to where their bug stash used to be
mad now, they marched menacing around the meadow
no need to be upset, the bugs escaped, lied the dogs
opportunity to be peacemakers always taken by pups
pacifists and problem solvers
quails and quackers put their six cents in
raising the ire of the miffed albatrosses
sixteen sparrows sauntered in to stir things up too
they had heard there was a show-down
ugly words were tweeted and chirped
verbs and vowels best not repeated here
wrens and warblers were shooed off by the fray
‘xact ‘xchange never ‘xamined or journaled
you are lucky you escaped this melee
zealous birds can become dangerously ugly.
~~No One... of Us Are Perfect~~
~We ALL have Done Things We Probably Shouldn't Have~
~Some Continue to Do Things They Shouldn't~
~Some People Learn from their Mistakes~
~Some People Just Don't~
~Some People Believe they Don't Make any Mistakes~
~Some People...Love Everyone~
~Some People are Just Filled with Hate~
~Some People Spend their Lives Helping Others~
~Some People Don't Help Anyone~
~Some People Don't Even Try to Help Themselves~
~Some People Ask for No Help Ever.... Even when their Life a Depends on it~
~Some People Extend an Olive Branch~
~Some People Carry a Stick of Dynamite and Matches~
~Some People Spend their Lives Being Walked All Over~
~Some People Spend their Lives Walking All Over Others~
~Some People ... Walk Beside and With Others~
~Some People Blame the World for ALL their Woes~
~Some People Know the Mess they have Made... Accept the Total Responsibility of it....But just Don't know how or what to Do about it~
~Some People Lie and Say or Do Anything to Get Attention, Pity and Sympathy~
~Some People Give Others the Sympathy, Pity and Attention Desired~
~Some People are Wise to People's Drama and Scams~
~Some People think Everyone Owes Them~
~Some People Want Nothing from Anyone, But Would Give You Everything they have~
~For Whatever Reasons or Justifications We ALL have~
~~We Are All...Who We are~~
~~No One... of Us Are Perfect~~
Say you will save me
Say you will heal me
Say you will listen…
Say you will again…
Say you will understand
Say you will give me a helping hand
Say you will
Say you will
Say you will
Be my darling pill
To put me to sleep at night
And wake me up with delight
I believe in brighter days
I will seek His praise
I will be caught up in a hopeful haze
Gaze into my globally-whelmed eyes…
Graze into the absence of bittersweet lies…
Going through phases and episodes of set-me-free
Going through hardships and traces of sea-gleaming ecstasy
Please set me free from catastrophe
Say you will understand
Say you will give me a helping hand
Say you will
Say you will
Say you will
Be my darling pill
To put me to sleep at night
And wake me up with delight
Say you will love me
Say you will believe
Say you will clearly see…
Say you will relieve…
The scars of my haunting, taunting past
The heartbeats of my heart beat too fast
The stars in the sky are shooting me with guilt,
Consuming me with remorse, for I’m weakly built
The feelings of suicide and thoughts of it ache inside me…
The feelings of subsiding and drifting away is what I envy
Say you will understand
Say you will give me a helping hand
Say you will
Say you will
Say you will
Be my darling pill
To put me to sleep at night
And wake me up with delight
She handed me a shandygaff which I took to right away.
Oh, me, oh, my, I was soon drunker than a tipsy sailor,
And singing better than I had for years. Songs were coming
Out of me the way leaves come off a tree in the fall, only louder.
I was terrific at “Old Dan Tucker,”
Fantastic at “My Country Tis of Thee”,
And my “Over the Rainbow” was a contender
For the Judy Garland prize of the century.
I was amazing! I was amusing! My whit was hilarious,
I was more fabulous than I had ever been in my life,
For two seconds, but then I dropped, and fell asleep on the floor.
There was a hush for a second as people stared.
My husband carried me home.
I dreamed of my glory for hours.
My singing prowess! My keen sense of humor.
I had shown them!
Having no idea that eight people I work with
Had spiked my drink “thinking it would be funny”.
And amusing? Luckily, two sips put me down before
I died of alcohol poisoning.
I was out for eleven hours, because I do not usually drink.
So thanks co-workers, for helping me miss the entire
Stupid Christmas party.
Back next year? What would be the point?
Inspired by Ms. Toni Vasser
One early morn upon awake I quickly came to find.
The cobwebs of shadowy ghosts died within my mind.
Those slinky burdens of the dark that boo us from time to time.
‘Tis they the ones who keep our lives to forever twist and twine.
‘Twas relieved to finally think of a memory, one simply divine.
To bring to light a soul that ages as well and fine as wine.
Whenever one is in her presence, she is dutifully inclined.
To extend her hospitality to come to drink and dine.
It may be you to bring the salt, but she will bring the thyme.
Whenever one needs a helping hand, she is the first to chime.
We wish to appreciate the life of her while we are in our prime.
For, not to see the worth of her will surely be a crime.
w07-07-19
I unconditionally love the eutony heard by
my soul when I hear certain words.
zing, zip, zeal, zest, zealot, zipper, and z,
are particular favorites, for several sing-songy reasons,
slithering into my dendrites in a pleasing way.
South reminds me of my dad’s Southside Gang,
a group of six boys who grew up together, bonding
in the mysterious ways of boys who live in a small town,
and find each other in Kindergarten, knowing they will
be together their entire lives.
Living the best life, as besties,
only one left, and I do wonder about him. Poor man.
The words 'church' and 'lurch' have a certain bite.
They click on my tongue.
Small town churches are the same, still helping us reminisce
about a society and a time when everyone in a community
rises up to straighten the youth out, and help them to become
the best selves they can be.
It is a mystery to me how they all gave me advice, none of it the
same, and yet I turned out magically all right. I have no idea
why I am such a sentimental mood his evening, but it is a rather
pleasant thing to cough up these terrific memories of a small town.
If you are still living in one, I hope you know how lucky you are.
Within our care
They find their home
Warm love we share
They get from our grace-dome.
Our God-blest fortress
Welcomes street kids as good pals
Since it serves as abode against distress
Greeting heartily those needy gals.
We cherish our children
Young residents so precious
Needing compassion from brethren
With kindness bountifully gracious.
“Disadvantaged children” clamor for loving families
Since they’re abandoned, orphaned, neglected
Others have just been rescued from anomalies
Of grievous relationships; and must be protected.
Secured are our entrusted children within peace-bliss
Guided by devoted house parents who minister well
Helping them overcome traumas they should miss
And enjoy progress-delights of milestones’ yell.
It’s a blessing to see our nurtured children jubilant
Finding sweet succor inside our offered haven
While learning and staying courageously vigilant
Awaiting their guardians who are adoption-proven.
As one among “street children*” volunteer care-givers
I pray for them good health and grand future
With functional lives as transformed believers
Having faith in God, serving by His mercy’s gesture.
*Psalm 127:3 Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.
October 2, 2019
1st place, "BRIAN'S SELECT 7, any form, any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/7/2020.
Food is a gift from the Creator
To make mankind happy;
But never indulge in over eating
For it may cause some misery.
Work is Almighty's command,
For people to be glad;
But one must avoid greed
That shall make him truly sad.
So nice to gain knowledge
For it brings satisfaction;
But the fool says to his heart:
'There is no God in action'.
Friend lends a helping hand
All the more in times of need;
But bad buddies and mates
Will make your heart bleed.
Having a lifetime partner
Is healthy to one's emotion;
But the Lord hates divorce,
Annulment and separation.
The bread, job, wisdom,
Acquaintance and a spouse;
To human they are gifts
And treasures whom God allows.
But the greatest gift of all
That we must value and cherish
Is salvation in the holy city
Where hunger and pain shall perish.
Giving advice is a great way to start;
they may not listen from the very beginning,
but ponder they will until their heart
makes changes and starts loving and living.
Helping partners grow in all their ability and amplitude;
it's a duty and an obligation on your part...
keep on persuading them and take them to that altitude,
and they will learn and thank you for that!
Some brag about lending their hand with a hint so broad,
to demonstrate how much that individual has accomplished,
but why lay it in the open and let everyone alive know?
Friends never take credit for anything they've given or said!
Helping partners grow by the measure of your sympathy and tenderness,
can bring an overnight change; even a tender hug
is a hope glimmering...when all doors are shut and excessive droopiness
clearly shows in every action, word, look and feeling.
Reminding others how helpful and kind you have been...
dredges up old vanity and exposes all your credits with intent,
but eschewing humbleness as an estranged, vague secret:
is an eulogy spoken to deaf ears to get praise for your deed.
Helping partners grow is the truest example of sworn loyalty,
to make the bonds of friendship stronger and steep them in deep sincerity,
banishing bad thoughts and exciting the individual's interest in everything...
by letting that mind express new ideas and explore that extrasensory feeling.
I take a sip of pinkish liquid – White Zin.
Will I be able to drive home now?
The goblet seems much more fun than it should be.
I am horrified by her fullness. It shocks me. Too much liquor!
My brain screams at the young waiter, who is probably new,
Does he think he is helping out an old lady without friends?
Without a home? A crone who lives under a bridge on a storm grate?
The bar and grille’s loud music no longer bothers me.
One sip of White Zin wiped out my irritation station.
Spiders who live in my spinal column scurry away for
An evening of “who cares?” We are unconcerned.
My back cord is relaxing into a pudding pop of herself.
For the first second I realize the music is Country Western
and I am not cringing. I reach for the glass goblet. The
White Zin sloshes into my mouth, with a happy war cry.
I know my mouth is now in her “ugly-fat-protruding mode”
I do not often take this mouth out in public,
But the white zin has convinced me I do not care.
I do not know these people, nor do I want to know them.
A gaggle of gabbing women two tables down are laughing now.
Someone has recently left this earth-plane. They are
celebrating tonight to honor her memory. By the time
my friend arrives, I have used up all three of the dinky
napkins, writing words willy, nilly and yon.
None make sense.
Care I?
No.
We have a lovely time, out-cackling and out-laughing
the grieving table, my friend and I. She has a liquor drink
too so she is insanely silly.
Some old geezer wanders over and says he is sitting down.
We hold firm and he falls off the seat onto the floor.
Oops. Maybe I was the one who held firm.
We promptly leave. Hug goodbye. No kissing.
I let her pull out first. She can barely see. She has
hit lots of cars. I wait for a bit.
White Zin and I are not the friends we once were.
I throw up promptly when I arrive home.
Second or third reminder to me that I should not drink alcohol.