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Long Heroic couplets Poems | Poetry

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Long poem by Mike Shoemaker | Details

YES, MOTHER

Looking back to memories bright,
I remember she’d teach me wrong from right.
“Clean your plate.  There are others who have none.”
“Do your homework, and let me know when you’re done.”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Save your money for a rainy day.”
“It’s beautiful outside, so go out and play.”
“Let me show you how to clean and cook.”
“If you’re really bored, you can read a good book.”
“Don’t you know that I was young once, too?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Take some time to read this book, son.
I think it’s time you know where they come from.”
“Girls are spice and everything nice.”
“If you’re smart, you’ll take my advice.”
“You don’t have to do as others do.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“My grandfather gave us all we would need.
When spring rolled around he would plant seed.
He shot game and lived off the land.
He wasn’t afraid to make a stand.
You could learn a few things from him, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“I used to walk a mile to school.
It won’t hurt you to walk a little, too.”
“Do your chores and be nice to your sister.”
“Address adults as Misses or Mister.”
“Do you know that I love you?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Why do you want to be in a rock and roll band?”
“Be a leader.  Lend a helping hand.”
“How old is she?  What is her name?
Do you care for her deeply?  Does she feel the same?”
“Where have you been?  I was worried about you!”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“How many hours?  How much does it pay?
Think of your future.  In school you should stay.”
“Do you have food?  You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
“Be on time.  You shouldn’t be late.”
“Did you get the letter that I sent you?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“You’re too young to get married.  Won’t you wait till later?
Yes, I think she’s nice.  No, I don’t hate her.”
“You need a good job.  Where will you live?”
“How much do you need?  How much can I give?”
“Isn’t life great when love is new?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“I’m going to be a grandma?!!  You must be joking!”
“How’s the job going?  Are you still smoking?”
“We’re all fine.  How is she?
I was foolish to think she’d replace me.
Tell her that I’m thinking of her, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“You sound funny.  Are they all right?
How long was she in labor?  Was it a long night?
She’ll be okay.  She just needs time to heal.
You’ll be a good father.  When was your last meal?
Give her my love, and to the baby, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Tell her not to fuss.  I won’t be a bother.
I remember a few things.  You were once a toddler.
The living room is fine.  You sleep in your own room.
I’ll get her some groceries.  Where does she keep her broom?
It was nice seeing you.  I’ll miss you, too.
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“They’re growing like weeds.
I wish you weren’t so far away.”
“Pay attention to your wife . . .
A good husband doesn’t stray.”
“Call me if you need someone to talk to.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Get you some stocks, bonds, or an IRA.
If you stuff it under the mattress, that’ll be okay.
You must think of their future . . . and yours and hers, too.
It’ll take planning to see it all through.
Don’t worry about me, son.  I’ve planned some, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Are you happy, boy?  It’s important that you are.
There’s more to life than a career or a new car.”
“I’m proud of you and of who you’ve become.
You’re all that I dreamed of and even more, son.
But tell me the truth.  Did I ever get through?
Did you ever listen when I was talking to you?”

Yes, Mother . . . I listened.  I even took your advice.
In many of my choices, I didn’t have to think twice.
I haven’t always been as good as I could be.
There were times that I was glad you weren’t there to see.
Of one thing I’m certain . . . you passed a lot on.
You taught me to be caring, happy, and strong.
Your thoughts are with me in all that I do.
Yes, Mother . . . I heard you.

Copyright © Mike Shoemaker | Year Posted 2016


Long poem by Shaila Touchton | Details

Glimpse Of Military Life




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Poems by Shaila Touchton : 11 / 52 « prev. poem 
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Glimpse Of Military Life! - Poem by Shaila Touchton


The soldiers are miles away, leaving their family and children all alone
Leaving behind everything they know and love
Out of their comforting homes and zones.
When they say good bye to their families, their heart breaks
They burst in tears of separation
No one would ever understand their emotional pains and feelings
They wish they could stay all together, but their job is calling
They try hard to be brave, while crying silently in their hearts
They feel utterly empty torn between by their loved ones and their job
 Having a highest call to defend the country

With loyalty, respect, personal courage they defend the country 
Protecting our nation from our enemies living each day with fear of death
Whether the weather is dry, sunny, rainy or cold 
Whether they are in mountains or deserts or on sea 
They endure lot of trouble to protect their motherland.
Where we would dare not to be there in their place
They never know what the day will bring
For that day could be their last day in their lives


They are lonely in the far distant land 
Away from Motherland away from loved ones 
While we sleep in our comfortable bedrooms without fear
While they sleeps next to their war weapons.
Taking cat naps, less sleep or no sleep 
And are always alert even in their sleep

They serve the country and fellow citizens 
With selfless service, integrity and honor
They are the mighty warriors helping us in times of need
They Work day and night, giving up their personal time, peace, sleep and desires 
They miss their families and friends
They forget the Everyday Pleasures of a normal life
In order to give our country a great care and protection

Their wife at home struggles alone to raise their kids 
Their wives stress out too much to handle the kids' sadness
In the midst of their loneliness and stress they comfort their children
Worrying about the danger and safety of their husband, the father of their kids.
When they go to war, their family also goes to war 
With them in their heart
They sit at home waiting for their return
Hoping and praying for their safety.
When the world celebrates Christmas
They are alone and hurt for they 
Can't spend the holidays with their family
Underneath their smile
There is fear of pain, frustrations, tears and loneliness

With their patriotic Spirit they are always prepared
For Meeting all sorts of dangers and life's challenges
Their life's hardships are brutal and cruel
For there is no greater sacrifice 
Then laying down their lives for the sake of their country.

Salute to these brave Military who lay down their lives for the country 
Appreciate them for their bravery and service.
For defending homeland from violence and terrorism
For defending their motherland with their life and blood
Pray for them that they may return home in safety
Pray for their families that they are strengthened 
Be kind and thankful to them for their support
Honor them for their service and be Proud of them.
God bless each and everyone in our Military! 
For their sacrifice is too much to count! 

Copyright © Shaila Touchton | Year Posted 2016


Long poem by randall graves | Details

Are you ready

Moments to Reflect
Are you ready?
Jesus is on his way and it will not be long until He arrives and I want my soul by His side because His love will set me free. He is all in this world that I need, He is the air that I breathe and He lives within me He give to me a gift of life for all eternity. Jesus is the air that I breathe he is in every breath that I take. He my life and the world to me so I praise Him daily upon my knees, He is life for all who want to live for all eternity.
So fresh and clean, like clear blue sky and a gentle summer breezes, He is what will always sustain me in my time of need. He caresses me like a summer shower, oh what an honor. Like the air that I breathe, I have faith in Him sight unseen. In Him I place my faith unseen knowing that He is living deep within me.
He is every flower and every tree His present is everywhere, all around me. This I can see and I know He care for me. He gave His life so that I might be free of sin, loving Him bring true life for me and for all to see my faith is strong and I show it and in this I cannot go wrong living my life, His words as my guide.. He bared the weight of this world big or small and sin was what it was called and He paid a debt that He did not owe for all humanity to find their way back home and to have life more abundantly  within His kingdom that is more precious gold with bless yet to be told.
He the One who can set you free, He all that you need, He is the air and the flowers and the trees, He the air that I breathe for He fulfilled my every need and that is why I worship Him wholeheartedly upon my knees. He my Savior the One that I want to please serving Him faithfully in all that I do giving thanks down on knees because I know that He love me.
In His glory I will live my life, and in Him will find a peace of mind, and be with Him when I die living forever a new life in paradise by His side.



No matter where I go He like the air that I breathe so fresh and clean. He always with me , living inside of me, oh how sweet the security living life full and sin free , because when He set you free you are free in deed.
Like a gentle summer breeze Jesus love caresses me and it for all if you ask Him to come inside of you. It is for all that can read His word is written please want you read. Come have faith in Jesus and to can have life and have it more abundantly, walk hand in hand with Jesus in paradise for all eternity. So do not be left behind with the time comes.
Keep this in mind and close to your heart; Jesus love is sweeter than a spring rain and more loving that a summer breeze, can’t you see within the 
Lord our savior there is everlasting life for all who truly believe. Faith and belief in Jesus is life guaranteed what more do anyone really need?
 

Copyright © randall graves | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Clifford Chapman | Details

You Did It, Now Undid It

The moving finger writes and having writ
moves on. And that's the bitter core of it.

So did you scheme to mold we are so base,
like you're disgusted in the human race?

And was it the mirror that then charged through
as you sought an image to seem you true,

even as your treacherous fangs and claws,
blue eyes turned on me their syphilitic pores,

with your sharp knives into my back plunged deep,
say crux designed to make us always weep?

Because to use another's innocence
while feigning love, is to be out of sense.

But, no, compassion should not feature here,
not in the perfidious midst of fear.

Nor where humanity fast disappears
into graveyards drowned in crocodile tears.

The lipstick and the liner once applied,
the reality's safely locked inside

that mirror's terrible irony oh;
you seem pretty, out to the world you go,

where truths and lies and lies and truths do spin
a tangled web to haply live within.

Free choice for you to make, less you're in chains
when swings and roundabouts are all one gains.

Can an adult be steeped in mental blood
crying nature unleashed a toxic flood?

There white becomes black and black becomes white
and your language use makes all appear right.

Yet that line once crossed, that deed, once it's done,
might quickly return to haunt anyone.

Thus soon mind and body together merged
and suppuration swift malignant surged.

Thoughtless present became a nightmare past,
the future, death, a sort of peace at last.

To think a person is so forsaken
simply from just one small step they'd taken?

For a literal thing's so easy to do,
it's the hell thereafter that defines you.

Gaze into that mirror with all your might,
you'll never wipe what looks back from your sight.

Not ever could your thoughts erase such things
when pain and torment's all the morrow brings.

A person's dignity sprite far away,
one could collapse to heaven and nigh pray.

Your fingers reached out to knock at that door,
an act that one day had you crawl on floor,

wailing and howling in foetal display - 
nothing can magic that picture away.

All for a moment's egotistic feed,
heart, mind, body, wiped out by basest need.

So you destroyed yourself; and nearly me.
Go to that mirror again at what you see.

Now as you stare with both feet in the grave,
what price love that can human beings save?

Another betrayal on history's paged,
thus promptly came cancer, as if outraged.

Subconscious wouldn't let the conscious rest,
as truth in the mind unbearable pressed.





Copyright © Clifford Chapman | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Rhoda Monihan | Details

Reg Everson

Kitted out with a uniform, I felt the part, 
But the deesire inside is always the art;
I was enlisted as a pilot under training, 
And inoculated, vaccinated in yearning. 

The medical exam asserted no divinity,
And taught us about our own humanity;
I passed it with flying colours, no probs,
And had confidence in my muscular hobs.

I reported to the Babbacombe squadron, 
Lectured to so I took full notes to go on, 
On morse, navigation, given a maths gut,
Had to march at 140 paces per minute.

I haven’t stopped talking about the PT,
The physical training that so let me be, 
The food, the pilchards, were supplied, 
In small, easy open tins for the ride. 

I eventually was sent down to Winslow,
Where I learned I’d been selected, quo, 
To be trained as a pilot in America, 
I could smell it as I saw the panorama. 

I got my greys in Toronto, ’twas neutral, 
Located in Atlanta, Georgia, my enthrawl,  
Where, although wearing civilian disguise, 
Were welcomed with cookies and pies. 

It was dangerous to live, so if we ever, 
Left the base we wore a civilian collar, 
But the food was magnificent as gold, 
Fried chicken and pumpkin pie to enfold. 

I noted with queasiness their last names, 
Many of germanic derivation, no games, 
But I just got used to it and settled down, 
‘Cos it warmed to see the Nazi’s thrown. 

We flew with the seat of our pants fine, 
Had theory exams but did for some pine;
Accidents do happen, that was expected, 
Their deaths no easier than those contested. 

Our Meteorology Officer did always pacify, 
And after Primary Training for t did classify;
We all moved to Cockrane Field Macon, 
For Service Flying Training to button. 

Basic Training complete, we found Dothan, 
With American Wings we were in the pan,
We returned to Bournemouth as Navvies, 
And became instructors with many savvies.

Passed through Gloucestershire to Inverness, 
Then Greenham Common nonetheless, 
Then posted to France Polish Squadron,
Flying low behind enemy lines, not done. 

I was shot down and captured sadly, 
Interrogated and taken to die cruelly,  
But after liberation became an officer,
In France, where I found out the abuser. 

They gave me medals, the Polish nation,
For being at my post, manning the station -
The Polish Gold Cross of Merit, First Class,
And the Polish Air Medal of sparkling brass.


For Remembrance Day 2015

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Mike Shoemaker | Details

Billy Pugh

Twas the night before sunrise
and all through the warehouse,
not a creature was stirring
except Elmer, the field mouse.

It was 1962
And times were hard on mice.
Elmer had eaten this month
only twice.

Away to the bin
he scurried like a flash.
He squeezed under the door,
and irritated his little rash

He bobbed his head up,
and twitched his little nose.
“I think I’ve hit the jackpot!
They’ve got Lays and Fritos!”

He scratched and he clawed
He bit and he chewed
“Gee,” he wondered
“What am I going to do with all this food?”

“I guess I’ll take some home,
then come back and get more.
But just as he was thinking that,
there was a sound at the front door.

Elmer scurried away fast.
He had enough warning.
“But who could it be?” he thought.
“It’s 3:30 in the morning!”

Elmer’s eyes stuck to the entrance
like glue.
The door swung wide,
and in walked Billy Pugh.

He was a good-looking man,
but check out those bushy eyebrows!
To Elmer, they looked bigger
than what the law allows!

He guessed they were to cover those puffy eyes.
They looked like vanilla wafers!
He looked like he spent the night
at Heartbreakers!

Billy said not a word,
but went straight to his work.
He started to load his truck,
then turned with a jerk.

Now Billy wasn’t a temperate man,
but his blood pressure was up a bit.
“Someone’s made a mess in here!
And what’s this?  Mouse shit?”

Billy shook his head,
and with his arm gave a wave.
“I’ll clean it up later,
after a haircut and a shave.”

Billy’s pockets jingled when he walked.
He was a man of great wealth.
It wasn’t just his bankroll.
It was his pride, his happiness, and his health.

Elmer’s eyes widened as Billy
crouched near him on the floor.
“Eat all you want, mouse.
I’m sure we’ll make more.”

It was then that Elmer knew
That this man would go far.
He’d do some good things.
He’s shine brighter than the brightest star.

The years have gone by now,
And Billy shares the simple times of the past.
As long as his mind holds out,
the memories will last and last.

Elmer has looked in on Billy
from time to time.
He’s seen the new technologies.
He’s seen the Pepsi stock climb.

He saw him that last day,
just before he walked out the door.
Billy said “I’m old and I’m slow
and I can’t do 32 more.”

“No more of this.
Let the computers do the math.
I’m ready to find
my own golden path.”

Copyright © Mike Shoemaker | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Giacomo Nerone | Details

VIURE PER LA INDEPENDENCIA

Si està convençut que la independència és impossible, dir-los que és impossible de ser silenciós, impossible i no tenir una veu impossible és ser inhumà i acceptar ratlles. Tenim el dret a viure. Creiem en aquesta certesa amb totes les forces del nostre cos i, encara més, amb totes les forces de la nostra voluntat. Viure lliure i independent és un verb gran i llarg. Creiem en totes les seves dimensions, no ens oblidem d'un sol pas del seu camí.

Som molt conscients que és inútil queixar-se de la pantalla de notícies de televisió. El got no respon. Així que tenim altres plans. Tenim veu, tantes veus; Tenim cares, tantes cares. Els carrers ens donaran la benvinguda, seran petits per a nosaltres. Sabem com formar marees, corrents. També sabem que mai no hem ofert res. Cada assoliment es va guanyar mil·límetre a mil·límetre. Abans d'estar a la vista de tothom, pràctic i concret, sempre era impossible, però viure és creure. Tenim el dret a l'esperança. Aquesta vida ens pertany.

A més, és magnífic fer malbé el partit als poderosos. És divertit, sa, bo per a la pell. Quan pensen que han lliurat en un lloc que tot ja està decidit, que ens va comprar amb batut i adhesius, els vam mostrar que sabem cridar.

Els avergonyimos perquè els nens de cinc anys avergonyeixen als seus pares a la cua del supermercat. Amb la gran diferència de no ser de cinc anys i la immensa diferència d'ells que no són els nostres pares perquè els nostres pares fa gairebé quatre dècades havien de desfer-se dels seus pares. O almenys ho van intentar.

L'únic impossible és el que pensem que no podem construir. Tenim mans i una infinitat d'habilitats que podem fer amb ells. Cap d'aquests trucs és deixar-los caure al llarg del cos, emmagatzemar-los a les butxaques, estendre'ls a la caritat. Per tant, no demanarem, ho exigirem.

Repetirem tantes vegades com sigui necessari: tenim dret a viure DONES I DONES DE NOSTRES DESTINATS - CAPITANTS DE LES NOSTRES SOULS.

La vida, si ens està escoltant, sabrà que estem caminant en la seva direcció.

La nostra llibertat creix a mesura que creiem i creixem amb ella i tu, la vida, creixem també.

Si volen convèncer a tu, la vida, que és impossible, dir-li que estem tots en el seu rescat, farem el que sigui necessari i els diu que és impossible negar-se a si mateix, que camuflatge amb nombres, els dic que és impossible no tenen veu.

VIURE PER LA INDEPENDÈNCIA

Copyright © Giacomo Nerone | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by nandlal pancholi | Details

QUACK'S PROGRESS

Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake


Copyright © nandlal pancholi | Year Posted 2007

Long poem by Shaila Touchton | Details

A Tribute To Police Officer

Each day is a new day for the Police 
Looking around protecting and serving the public
 With a smile and politeness
They guard us from deadly criminals 

Whether the weather is cold or hot, wet or dry
Whether they fear or feel joy
Whether they are sad or mad 
Whether they are sick or not
Whether day or night

No matter what their personal lives holds
They took an oath to serve and protect you and me
To maintain peace, order and crime prevention
 They have unlimited duties such as VIP security, Border guarding
Tackling smugglers drug traffickers and counter terrorism
And they thrive with such perfectionism

When the whole world is in deep sleep 
They walk in streets looking out for any potential crime and criminals
To protect us from thieves and dangerous criminals.
They are injured, stressed, trying to do the right thing
Where we would dare not to be there in their place.

Out of honour, duty, justice and respect
They strive to save the lives they haven't met
To protect this world from the coldness and dark 
They sacrifices their family and their loved ones
In order to protect us and our families at the cost of their own lives

The badge they wear is heavy that carries all the burdens 
With many responsibilities overburdened
To promise to help those in need
And comforting them indeed
For they would stand guard, to serve and protect. 
They never know what the day will bring
For that day could be their last day in their lives

They hardly hear the praise they deserve
They hardly are appreciated for their hard work.
They hardly hear the words of Thanks
They are the ones who do incredible sacrifice 
Making the world better by their sacrifice
Every day in everyway
They are the real heroes who risk their lives every day 
For they have a dangerous job 
Bringing different challenges throughout every day

They are constantly being faced with the unknown and the unpredictable situations
With frustrations and complications, when the things are complex.
With pride integrity they protect our world 
And making a better place to live in.
Their commitment is beyond priceless
Always willing to give their life to protect others
May God bless them and keep them safe
Be proud to be the Police officer!

Copyright © Shaila Touchton | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Alexandru Pop | Details

The Duet - Part 1

When a man chooses to want
Only a smile can get a sparkle in his heart
But the man’s heart in not in his chest
Because you see, the heart is in the mind to think
And the mind is in the heart to feel,
Flawless control in a duet starts to roll.
From a sparkle in his heart becomes a fire in his mind
And a fire in his mind leaves the heart in it needs
For what it wants is a bigger fire for it then you can feel.
It is the heart who had betrayed us in the beginning of this journey,
Of swimming through life with the illusion of control
In need of feel and in feel on need 
In need of food and in need of shelter
In need of power and in need of control
All just in the name of the hearts dream, 
A crude dream that will conquer us all.
 
 
First we must let our-self ignite
Because in our-self's is the mind in his control 
Because everything is a reflection of a reflection
Our consciousness is in our thoughts, only for ourselves to know
That's the law of universe in the things that roll
From small to big in a spiral cone,
From the two particles in perfect motion,
That forms the motion of it all 

- gravity !

A star is born from its spiral core
So you and I can see
A sun to us and a sun to the galaxy
But a father of this planet and life on it to be
Cause you see our planet in reality is another sun yet to be
In a cause in which we all grow one day to see
Experiencing the journey of the universe in which we see
All things ever created and ever to be
Because at its end end
we are all the same and equal in every way
One movement in a cloud of dreams
One thought, one mind, one body 
One final duet for the universe to sing
A mind of itself at everything that is and it can be
At the end we will all see
What the universe really is and what it can be
Only then
A true god will be born that we all take part in feel
Only at the end of the end is all the same
When the fire from the heart is gone
Only then the creation had began
Again from the start of everything and back here
To the planet earth that holds life on its own
In a bigger spiral of the galactic core
It's all a duet of balancing the hole
because the hole is itself the balance of it all
 
 

Copyright © Alexandru Pop | Year Posted 2014

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