Long High level Poems
Long High level Poems. Below are the most popular long High level by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long High level poems by poem length and keyword.
Yes I am of the almighty Obafemi Awolowo University
The alpha and omega of all other institutions
No argument about that fact!
I am of the almighty Obafemi Awolowo University
Nobility runs in my blood
And legitimate pride in my veins
I am made up of high level of intellectual sagacity
And an uncommon high level of moral standard
After all, we are for learning and culture
I am of the almighty Obafemi Awolowo University
To survive in every part of the world I have been trained. How?
I started off my life in the great community at the bedrock of OAU Militancy
Continued my journey in the castle of great men
I have the Awo blood flowing in me
And you are still wondering why and how it is possible for me to survive under any condition?
I am of the Almighty Obafemi Awolowo University
The hub of political consciousness and academic exploits
The ideal community ought to be modeled by every community of the world
A peaceful community where we all learn to love and respect each other irrespective of background
All hail my great citadel of learning
All hail the Almighty Obafemi Awolowo University
Relentlessly pursuing educational and cultural excellence.
Note: Once a GREAT IFE is always a GREAT IFE!
©ABSOL
Form:
This prison I know so well
For I've been here before
When all I can do so well
Is stay up all the way till four
When the gate would just no longer open
After several times of opening and closing
That it would just be hard to keep them open
Any longer without the walls shaking
This stare I know so well
It says go on some more
It puts you in some sort of spell
And you find yourself saying one more
When all you can do is rock back and forth
Tapping depths of the waters so that they splash
While eyes are closed, hands clasped to the sheets with wrath
For once the waters reach high level out they'll wash
This is a pause I know so well
It comes before the tap out
When you know you've done so well
That all you need now is final bow out
When you all sweaty and out of breath
For you've been rowing this boat
And you've not had time to catch your breath
Cause the tides were strong you had to keep rowing the boat
The PO£T
It had nothing to do with March Madness or the NCAA final championship game between Arkansas and Duke in 1994, but it was one great game.* In fact, it was one of the greatest games I have ever witnessed. It was a basketball championship game in which my youngest son played. This basketball program of the junior high level was sponsored by the Park District in our community.
There were two team members that will forever be fixated in my mind. One was the point guard and the other was my son, the-two guard. Our team lost that game, but it should have never been close. The point guard had great speed and some great offensive skills. My son was a great ball-handler, great free-throw shooter, and blessed with great defensive skills. This game was lost because the point guard did not do well at the point.
With too few passes on offense, he missed far too many layups. He would race down the court in Nascar speed only to miss too many uncontested layups. Such weakness was not revealed until the last game, and by then, it was too late.
The point guard was short and never learned the magic of utilizing the backboard for maximum performance. The ball would fall short of the goal where it needed to be in order to bounce into the hoop. Sometimes, basketball is all about the backboard.
041320PoSp *This happened in 1994 and was written in longhand some years later and not dated. I found this story a couple of days ago in my garage. This was written at least 10 years ago.
Stashed with programs recorded, which, condensed on universal files
Will tell them very little of what they don’t know and may never know
In this lifetime or the next heaven, in this orbit or the next
Treasure from this Earth loaded up on classical chips, some kind of text
Even the quantum loads with memory mimetic, made to mimic the brane
Will lead you no where’s at all, empty, with your mind well past insane
For what else or beyond could be so crazy as to part from this precious earth
Without ever having known it’s cost, price, work, measure or stint of worth
And clearly, those who leave, when they leave, will not have known one grain
Of sand or soil, mud or toil: all dusty plows pluming billow-clouds into rain
Run on gasoline or stocks of mules, donkey, horse, or ram, shepperd’s hand
Fields from lost fields, turning wheat from grass, rice from blue water land
The mystery of death and birth still a mystery; life a mere reminiscence
Without any real light here or plant photometry, only luminescence
Imagine leaving this planet without every having known it’s rhythm
Going to some other world set in it’s own path, with it’s Keplerian hum
Beating out some different drum, set in a blinding sphere of light and sound
Like blended whiskey with the Irish; or Navajo, without the calendar round
Sans irony, the starmen will consult their astrologer or star-chart for this logic
Countin’ the days before they land again when the stars are [csmo]allo-genic
Since this cosmos has revealed no light to them, the starmen going forth
Eager to jump off of Earth’s orbital path, bend and trajectory
Their spacesuits, ships, tanks, sabres, and thrusters made from the factory
Everything printed like plastic in hazy glow and in false dimension
In light and low gravity, with false smiles and fat charms hanging in suspension
How could the new age begin completely unaware, one might ask ?
With no real knowledge of how the past one ended, without a task
This high level of dimness, this naivete, and ignorance unknowing
Much like blind men on the river styx, or perhaps, along with Homer rowing
Going from one ruse to harbour next shenanigan—look into the Cyclop’s Eye!
No land in Egypt and with Dido elope, with the Siren’s despair, intoxicants in Libya
IN OUR AFFORDS TO BE
THE GREAT AMERICAN SOCEITY
THE LIGHTHOUSE TO THE WORLD
WE SPEAK LOOKING THROUGH
ROSE COLORED GLASSES
WE UNDERMINE THE ACHEIVM,ENTS OF
TIMES WERE WE TRIPPED AND FELL
AND STOOD-UP TO BE PUSHED DOWN
DIRTY AND SOILED WE STAND
AND LOOK TO THOSE WHO PUSH US DOWN
IN RECOGNITION OF THAT DAY
WE SPEAK OF A NEW TOMMORROW
THE BEGANNING THAT DETAILES OUR
HEALING, COMING TOGETHER
IN THE SPIRT OF UNITY AND TOGETHERNESS
MAKING RIGHT THE ILLS OF YESTERDAY
WITH A VISSION OF TOMMOROW
REMEBRING WHERE WE HAVE BEEN
AND KNOWING WHERE WE NEED TO BE
SEPARATED WE SPEAK AGAINST ONE ANOTHER
TO COME TOGETHER FOR THAT DAY WERE
WE MIGHT LAY WITH THOSE WE ONCE WERE AGAINST
THAN MIGHT WE CREATE THE PEOPLE WE WISHED TO BE
IN A SOCEITY WHERE WE NEED TO BE
IN THE UNDERSTANDING OF LOVE
HOW THANN ARE WE GREAT THAT WE IGNORE
AND HOW ARE WE BEST THAT WE COMPLICATE
AMISS THE STORM
WITH OUR BACK AGAINST WHATS GOING ON
TURN THAN TO SEE THE STORMS THAT HAVE BEEN RAGING
TO THAN SPEAK OF THEM AS DONE
YET THE WORK FROM THESE DESTRUCTIONS
ARE LABORS ARE NEW BEGANNINGS FOR THOSE
WHO STOOD IN THE PATHS OF THE STORMS
DESTRUCTION
BRICK BY BRICK
AND BOARD BY BOARD
AND THAN WHEN DONE WE WISH THESE
THINGS NEVER TO HAPPEN AGAIN
BUT WE CLOSED OUR EYES IN THE STORM
SO THEN HOW MIGHT WE UNDERSTAND WHAT WE DID WRONG
THAT WE PRETENDED THESE THIS NEVER HAPPENED?
THEY USED THIS A METHOPHER, AFTER THE MEMBERS OF THE ORCHEASTRA BEGAN FIGHTING. MEMBERS OF THE WOODWIND SECTION PLAYED A HOAX ON THE TUBA PLAYER. tHE TUBA PLAYER THAN HOAXED MEMBERS OF THE WOODWIND SECTION. during A HIGH-LEVEL PERFORMANCE, WHEN THE MEMBERS CHANGED INSTRUMENTS. a FEW MEMBER FOUND" FEMALE PANTIES IN THEIR BASSONS AND OBOES" SOME WHERE SEEN ON LIVE TELEVISION USING FLUTES TO PUSH THE PANTIES THROUGHT THE INSTRUMENTS. iT BECAME AN ISSUE WHERE THE ORSTRATA'S STAKEHOLDERS HAD TO DEAL WITH IN FULL VEIW OF THE WORLD.
Life is not a rush"
I see too many religion,
All over places,
Yet I feel less love among the people,
I see people with lot of knowledge,
But few with wisdom,
Wonder why the scarcity?
Or is wisdom a ghost?
I see too many people,
With high level of class education,
They earn largely,
but yet lack happiness,
We fly to see,
What is in other planet,
While we lack the understanding of nature,
On earth,
I see men banking money,
They are too rich in money,
But they got no common sence,
They lack moral education,
Above all no peace of mind,
Oh gave me the herb,
Let me live long,
Too much advance medicine,
Yet we suffer from strange illness,
We work at last to pay for our health,
Like a game from the begining,
In an African uptown
I see too many mansions,
In defferent colours and shapes,
Few families of the so called v.i.p,
dwell in this community
liveing in a high luxurious lifestyle,
They Party hard,
like there is no tommrow,
Yet the salary of is gate men,
Are no where to be found,
Easy slowly,
I know some one out there is in need,
Steady slowing,
Life is not that hard,
Dont gave up,
Don't run faster than your shadow,
Don't shake hopelessly,
Cos life is not all about money,
Don't rush to belong,
Don't rush to be rich,
Don't rush to be famous,
No! don't rush, cos you will faint,
Where hope will never recognize you,
Where shadows,
just pass you by,
Without a word,
Eyes looks, but lips closed,
Life has enough to offer to all,
But for greed,
We rush,
If you honestly
you love yourself,
You got to know that,
Life is not a rush.
As with many dreams, I do not understand the dream I had last night. On the night of December 19, 2007, I dreamed about a candidate for President of the United States. I dreamed that he was the recipient of a strong spiritual awakening. In the dream, it was evident that it was not a political ploy, but was sincere and truly genuine.
I do have a pull toward governors because of their prior experience and administration abilities. Also, Although it matters, I am not very concerned about the candidates' religion. It also concerns me about their marital success or the lack thereof. In addition, I like candidates that are fiscal conservatives with flekibility and pragmatism with regards to social issues.
This country needs more balance with regards to military interventions. We seem to swing too far to the left/right extremes. We must defend America's way of life and our vital interests around the world. However, it is time for both parties and all Americans to reclarify and redefine what our vital interests are.
We can be proud of the fact that we have always sought to discover, invent, and innovate new ideas and new ways of doing things. I believe that we have led the way in making the world a better place in which to live. May our fathers' God show us the way out of our present wilderness.
This dream will force me to take a closer look at the candidates. We are clearly at a new crossroad in the quest for a God fearing, peaceful,, and properous America. Perhaps this dream also portrays a longing for a rebirth in the hearts of all Americans.
The high level of prosperity that we have experienced in America has not silenced the cries of the human heart. Could it be that I have seen a preveiw, not of a particular candidate, but of America's new leader, whomever he might be? Or could it be that America has come to a place in our history whereby every fiber of our being is crying out for a new awakening?
I cannot interprete the meaning of my dream or what it might signal; but I can say with certainty that it is most crucial that we be vigilant in employing our next leader. cj122007 (Edited and condensed for PS, 10012016)
Single Bed
I’m an admiral of
my bed I sit on
now!
My rank of
sitting and lying in
the winter of
1995 in
Australia is of
the highest regard!
I know many officers of
the bed know that.
My high level is
the envy of
bedders.
Toward the back of
my bed is
my deodorant stick,
and he’s
rotting.
He’s the Food World Banana Thief Suspect.
I won’t turn him in because
I hate bananas.
My bed head knobs are
made up of
a radioactive element of
the actinide series,
occurring as a
decay product of
uranium.
They are
my only real friends.
Most of
the length of
my footboard top rail is
very attractive, appealing, tiniest women high-yielding soil comprising of
sand, mud, and sill deposited by
water that flows.
Melomania
-----------------
Written By:Redamancy Mamihlapinatapai
--------------------------------------------
Sotto Voce-Col Legno Intro
---------------------------------------------
Con amore sing with love and affection.
Appassionato sing with deep passion
and intense emotion.
Amoroso sing in a loving, tender way.
Con tenerezza sing with gentle tenderness.
Romanza Romanza
she said for me to sing
a song of love and romance
a song for soothing dance
Oh sing to me
a love themed night
Amoroso: oh sing for me
Auh ooh
Warble and croon
sing with effection
Suonare in modo amorevole e tenero.
Appassionato
auh ooh auh
ooh we auh know
profonda passione ed emozione intensa.
d'amore, Romanza
auh amore auh sing
ah song of passion
oh love for me
sing a song to me
Suonare in uno stile cantabile e fluido.
Suonare con dolcezza e tenerezza.
Un brano musicale lirico, emozionante
espressivo, spesso incentrato
su una storia .Con tenerezza
oh lover for me
sing a love song to me
Last year
they told us
nothing
to see here,
no unknown
enemies
there
or elsewhere
with secret weapons
tuned up
and targeted
to screw-up minds.
Now
they say
it's Russia,
Russia, Russia
with secret telepathic
energy weapons
tuned up
and targeted
to seek out
minds
of high level
diplomats
and whomever
stands in the way
of a nefarious agenda.
Did they lie
last year
or are they
lying now,
and why
hasn't Russia
if it has
such a weapon
tuned up
and targeted
Vladimir
Zelenski?
Meanwhile
China is
suspiciously
quiet!