Long Idaho Poems
Long Idaho Poems. Below are the most popular long Idaho by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Idaho poems by poem length and keyword.
They used to call it the Empire State.
But the empire isn't doing too great.
Democrats in power, big ideas they plan.
Too bad for the middle class and the forgotten man.
Low-income high rise in your village
Middle class won't escape the general pillage.
Congestion and crime, they'll surely bring,
Practical doesn't matter, ideals are everything.
Landlords, its coming, statewide rent control.
They think you fat cats should be in a hole.
Squatters' rights beat your rights, so you can't evict.
Pols keep finding new ways, troubles to inflict.
Borders wide open, worldwide crooks pour in
MS-13, Venezuelan gangs, we lose, they win.
Homeless camps appear, old diseases arise.
Politicians let a killer loose, and Laken Riley dies.
They say, "Just pack your bags, if you disagree
We don't need you, go to Florida or Tennessee
Idaho, Montana the stampede fills them in
Locals priced out, waters rise, can you swim?
Shoplifters know hundreds of items can go.
No downside, they end up rolling in dough.
For assault, arrests are made but holding is rare,
If you're the next victim, guess who doesn't care.
A store owner could ask, what am I working for,
Just to watch my goods exit out the door?
I know people who no longer walk at night.
Hard to believe pols didn't do this from spite.
They'll remove your oil and natural gas.
You can't pay the AC, but more laws they'll pass.
They'll remove merit from the medical schools.
don't crash getting out, you'll be mended by fools.
What they really believe they tactically hide
Till you elect them, then the four horsemen ride
No room for the little guy, the pols feel disdain.
Look out the window, you're on a runaway train.
A house of dreams, walls start to shake,
Echoes of laughter, filled with heartache.
His dreams fast cars and narcotic deals,
She was lost in those fake stolen feels.
She counts the days, shadows creep,
Each phone ring, her heart leaps
In his arms, she felt she could fly,
Bottle stole him, she said her goodbyes.
Once danced under the moon, feeling alive,
Shadows move where hope used to thrive.
She is out of time, money’s gone dry,
Bill collectors circle, vultures in the sky.
She made a mistake, he turned to dust;
Should have grabbed the one she could trust.
Hands calloused, he knew how to mend,
Pushed him away when he needed a friend.
Stares at photos, her time used to glow,
Reality comes, her past beauty won’t show.
Thought she'd find love in reckless nights,
Her road leads me back to those fights.
She is out of time, money’s gone dry,
Bill collectors circle, vultures in the sky.
Her mistake when he turned to dust;
Stabbed in the heart the one she could trust.
Regret, heavy stones weigh on her soul;
If she knew what it took to be truly whole.
Ghost of choices haunt Courthouse halls;
All that remains are lawyers and calls...
She is out of time, money’s gone dry,
Bill collectors circle, vultures in the sky.
Her mistake when he turned to dust;
She did not grab the one she could trust.
She stands at the crossroad, tears unshed,
Knows no hope, her dreams are dead.
The life she chose, shadows cling tight
No more chances, she has lost the fight.
ON AUGUST 21ST 2017
I FOUND MYSELF STANDING
IN THE STREETS OF
WEISER IDAHO. U.S.A.
WITNESSING THE PHENOMENON
OF A SOLAR ECLIPSE.
A MOMENT IN TIME
I WILL ALWAYS TREASURE.
FOR THREE MINUTES
THE MOON BLOCKED OUT
THE SUN.
DARKNESS FELL ACROSS
THE LAND. THE TEMPERATURE
DROPPED ROUGHLY FIFTEEN
DEGREES.
I WAS CONSUMED BY
THIS PHENOMENON AS I
ABSORBED THE BEAUTY
OF PEACE AND TRANQUILITY.
AT THAT MOMENT,
WHEN THE MOON BLOCKED
OUT THE SUN. NATURE
EXEMPLIFIED IT'S WISDOM
AND KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE.
I NOTICED THE BIRDS
STOPPED CHIRPING AND
BEES STOPPED BUZZING
AND THE CRICKETS BEGAN
TO CHIRP.
IT WAS TRULY AN AMAZING
MOMENT IN TIME. A RELAXED,
PEACEFUL AND HYPNOTIC
FEELING. IT WAS A MAGICAL
EXPERIENCE. THERE WAS AN
INSTANCE OF TIME BETWEEN
THE BIRDS CHIRPING STOPPING
AND THE CRICKETS CHIRPING
BEGINNING. IT WAS LESS THAN
ONE SECOND AND STILL A LIFE TIME.
I FOUND IT TO BE AND CONSIDER IT A
PROFOUND MOMENT IN MY LIFE.
THE INSTANT THE MOON
GAVE WAY TO THE SUNS
BRILLIANCE ANOTHER
PHENOMENON OCCURRED.
THE SUNS RAYS LIT UP
OUR SURROUNDINGS AND
WARMED THE AIR. THE
CRICKETS STOPPED CHIRPING
AND THE BIRDS REJOICED
THROUGH SONG. ANOTHER
PROFOUND MOMENT OF PEACE.
EVEN THOUGHT IT WAS ONLY
AN INSTANT.
EXPERIENCING THAT MOMENT
WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS AND
LOVED ONES IS PRICELESS
AND FOREVER BOUNDS US TOGETHER.
REFLECTING BACK ON THOSE
PROFOUND MOMENTS AND
INSTANCES IN LIFE , I
REALIZED ALL THOUGHTS IN
MY MIND HAD BEEN SET ASIDE
AND CLEARED ALLOWING ME
TO EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTY OF
PEACE ON EARTH VIA THE
SOLAR ECLIPSE.
I HAVE COME TO THE CONCLUSION.
WORLD PEACE OR PEACE ON
EARTH IS POSSIBLE.
IF EVERY PERSON ON EARTH,
EVERY MAN WOMAN AND CHILD.
AT THE VERY SAME TIME,
TOOK FIVE MINUTES TO CLEAR
THEIR MINDS OF ALL THOUGHTS.
THE EARTH AND WORLD AND
EVERYONE ON IT WOULD
EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTY OF
PEACE AND THE PHENOMENON
OF LOVE AND BEING.
Michael E.Harris
01292022
Voting day will soon arrive for North Carolina, Nebraska, Indiana and Idaho too.
If you live in any of these four states, this poem was written specifically for you.
Obama needs your vote and he'll be thankful if he gets it.
If you vote for him, I'll guarantee that he won't forget it.
Unlike the other candidates, he does not accept money from the lobbyists.
He knows it's wrong and that's why their contributions are what he resists.
Mister Obama is against the war.
He will not stand for it anymore.
A lot of our soldiers have been killed and their families are in a lot of pain.
If Obama becomes President, he'll bring our troops home unlike McCain.
He sympathizes with these families tears and grief.
Change will occur if he is our Commander-in-chief.
On election day America wants to hear your voice.
If you vote for Obama, he'll appreciate your choice.
I used to be a poet series #1
Inspired by Emily Dickenson
Mixed rhyme
Copied from my first book, Afternoon Tea.
Amethyst Eyes
Golden plains in sweet repose,
hills and valleys stooped and rose
to meet him on the golden plains.
The rushing river knows the name
of the man with Amethyst eyes.
Sweet mountain with the softest gaze
and river running at your base,
the river song has moved on.
Singing tunes old and gone
to the man with amethyst eyes.
Sweet mountain, now turn away,
Idaho no longer holds the sway
of dreams dancing in my head.
Your sky in summer, ruby red,
still, I search for amethyst eyes.
they wheeled me in like a busted fridge
metal bolts, the stink of bleach
my hands were calm for once—
you'd think I'd scream,
but I'd already done all my screaming.
a priest mumbled junk at me—
I asked for a cigarette,
he gave me god instead.
the guards were kids
shaking like leaves
they strapped me tight
like I was gonna run.
I looked at the bulb overhead—
thought of the girl in Idaho,
how she laughed
before I broke her neck.
I almost cried.
almost.
they stuffed cotton in my mouth,
clamped that steel cap down
like I was a bad battery.
somebody puked.
someone else prayed.
me? I grinned.
the juice hit—
a million volts of penance.
my spine tried to climb out,
my teeth danced,
my bowels gave up.
and still
it didn’t feel like enough.
not even close.
Times Square was once a sleazy place;
You wouldn’t go alone there.
When darkness fell, you held on or
You’d lose all that you owned there.
Today, though, it’s like Disney World,
With tourists, loud and surging.
There’s not an inch of space unfilled
Since everyone’s converging:
The families from Idaho,
The hawkers giving passes,
The Elmos and the messengers,
The bused-in high school classes…
The lunch-break workers, homeless dudes,
The theater geeks and shoppers,
The food carts, cabbies and the cops
And all the teenyboppers.
I love New York; don’t get me wrong
But oftentimes I wonder
If gentrifying Broadway
Might have been a whopping blunder.
She can handle it, they said. She is tough, and so I grew elephant skin.
Walking over trees with lions chasing me, because they said I could.
Tell her, they told the complainers, she will do something about it.
I could not have done it for me, but I did it for them.
Because my reputation did not want to be smeared or smashed
or squashed or left in the dust in a ditch in the middle of Idaho.
She is the one to ask, she is the one who will fix it, she
is the one. She, she, she, she, she, she, she, she, she, she, she.
And that she is me.
But I no longer am a me.
Or an I.
I am a she can, she will, she does.
I am a mom.
I am a grand mom.
I am the fix it woman.
I am nameless now.
I am worn out, but I cannot let my reputation down.
So I keep going like the energizer bunny until there is nothing left.
Not daring to let anyone know that I am less than the SHE they expect me to be.
We're goin' out to Idaho where the potatoes grow
honey we're leavin' quite soon
but if you call it quits then I've had my chips
and like the wolf I'll be a-howlin' at the moon
I'm over this Sunshine State yeah I can hardly wait
baby we're leaving at noon
but if you say 'No way!' and you wanna stay
like the wolf I'll be a-howlin' at the moon
if we don't go to Idaho where the potatoes grow
darlin' don't know what I'll do
I can't stand the strain it's drivin' me insane
and like the wolf I'm a-howlin' at the moon
if we load the luggage in the car
and hit the road it ain't that far
no it ain't so far to go
we'll be there before you know
and I won't be a-howlin' at the moon
please don't let me down don't turn this dream around
'cause you don't need to hear me
howlin' like the wolf a-howlin' at the moon
Is Donald Trump a saint or a sinner?
This question hangs
in bars and in corridors of power
This man, Trump, is habitually torn to shreds, by political editors representing the opposition, while some
people point out the country was in good shape under
Trump's leadership and middle America applauds
Donald, let's see him as a golf-playing human is criticized for his tie, which appears too long, he is also obese, he was but is not obese anymore.
The daftest accusation is that Donald doesn't drink, which should be an example for all politicians, did they think a Donald- drunk, like Yeltsin but funnier.
When the intellectual class and the Washington elite are
up in arms over our Donald, it is time to ask what the ordinary workers and the small shopkeepers think about
him; to the elite group( those who drink French red wine for lunch) surprise Donald, the man, who is admired.
Yes, the people of middle America, the flyover states
who supply the army with soldiers to wars called to free
the local of the wrong tyrant, who will be replaced with one they say is a true friend of democracy
They are the people badly informed by the mass media
endlessly lied to; Donald enters and tells his audience the untarnished truth, and the wind of hope sweeps over
Minnesota, Idaho, Indiana, and Kansas, at last, a man who cuts through the waddle in Washington and cuts to the chase. They are the people Hilary Clinton, called
the deplorable, well, they are back and bit her ****.
I don't think Donald Trump will win, the black cabal of Washington will see to that.
If something good has to come out of this sorry saga it must be not to take people for granted.