Long Idled Poems
Long Idled Poems. Below are the most popular long Idled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Idled poems by poem length and keyword.
Relentless, empowering, with so many mountains to climb
Remorseless destruction, given on those who idled around
Youthful years spent wasted on anger never worth its time
Pursued until driven under this cold, listless barren ground
He had a mission given to him, before his own birth breath
Centuries before him, a devil’s power on his enemies to ail
Bring them all down, then left to wallow in their own death
Just to sight him was enough to render those demons pale
He was going beyond any hell known that all feared but he
Wiping this world, of those who would afflict beyond belief
To make all a better place only for the likes of you, and me
Not to be burdened with their woeful cries, thus their grief
Where God’s beyond, will feed upon, their perishable souls
With all their knowledge on a platter digested, as achieved
So, peace upon this world can reign once more, we control
So evil will no longer exist as we have all always perceived
With much trepidation I visited the local "hair stylist" today.
It was a "hair raising" experience as compared to barbers of yesterday!
'Twas thirty years since I'd heard the snip of a barber's shears,
Since my long-suffering wife had trimmed my hair for many years!
My hair had become somewhat bushy on the sides and nape,
So I needed her to thin it out and my sparse coiffure reshape!
I was the only guy there, suffering the ladies' intimidating gaze.
"Will this agony ever end?" I thought, for lack of a better phrase!
Displayed in her tidy shop were various creams, dyes and oils,
Plus a variety of glosses and shampoos to beautify the goils!
It took about five minutes for her to snip and groom my hair.
I paid eight bucks plus a paltry tip and scurried out of there!
Now, in the barber shops of old idled the usual jovial blokes,
As the barber recited a litany of the latest risque jokes.
On the walls he displayed posters of women scantily clad.
There was none of that in the "hair stylist's" shop to be had!
The barber shaved and powdered your neck among his amenities,
(After abiding rowdy razzing and very colorful profanities!")
You left his shop reeking of Vitalis and/or pungent bay of rum.
All of this for just six-bits - a nickel tip was the rule of thumb!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Seemed like eons to Pa since he began another daily grind.
The more he tried to stay ahead, the further he got behind!
The boss harassed him all day long - nothin' at all went right.
"Lord, have mercy!" he prayed. "Relieve me of my miserable plight!"
First, he botched a simple job on his drillin' and planin' machine,
Causin' him chagrin and agitatin' the boss, who made a scene!
This blunder brought work on the line to a three hour cessation,
Causin' the boys in the front office very little jubilation!
Pa ate his balogna sandwich alone avoidin' the hostile bunch,
Thinkin' ill of Ma who forgot to pack a Twinkie for his lunch!
He mused, "Help me through this day without gettin' fired, Lord!
Only twenty years 'til retirement - an axin' I just can't afford!"
He gave his all that afternoon, aware he'd blemished his career,
Heedin' details and avoidin' the boss whenever he came near!
He waited for the shift to end, the siren to sound quittin' time,
And gettin' home to his lovin' clan and much needed peace sublime!
Quittin' time finally came and he joined the fleein' herd.
Met by his adorin' brood, they asked him what that day occured.
He hugged and kissed each one, answerin' with a puckish smile,
"Oh, nothin' much, 'cept the plant was idled for quite a while!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I stood motionless
the breath scratching its way to surface
seconds idled into minutes
watching like a predator in its prey sight
Her selective form withdrawing into darkness
Will held me captive
slowly drowning in the morose
Etching her shape
in forgotten shadow
The war between need and loss
accumulating in an arrow pierced tear
This sweetest sorrow somehow stale
and parting never to be twain ed
The end of us
Turn away
the unheard voice utters from beneath
but holding onto hope
as it burns its faltered escape
and reality aborted by her trace
can be tracked rolling down my face
Zarker Street was treeless,
front porches of houses
reaching the sidewalk,
not a square inch of grass
to welcome even a weed.
The polio ambulance, like a
a hungry animal, idled
In front of Ronnie Dasher’s house,
his brother being carted to the curb,
bound for an iron lung.
All the kids, having run inside,
watched from behind the windows.
“Mama, mama will I die?
I talked to him last week.”
How do you get away, get away?
In Miss Laken’s voice studio
at the corner of Twentieth,
a soprano student yearns
to reach the higher branches
of a more capacious garden.
The countless flights of noisy seagulls
seem like my days once idled away,
sitting by the ocean appeasing the relentless loneliness of my blues...
beyond that horizon, so traveled by ships, another sunset faded away.
Being brought here by destiny's hasteness,
I am unable to return to my adored land...
hinderd by unknown forces more devastating than summer's violent storms and hurricanes;
even the gentlest breeze can erase those memories still imprinted into the smooth sand.
Springs have been short and winters last much longer,
and only the red Lighthouse surrenders to darkness;
the gelid winds of the North batter the snow-decorated docks making the waves rise higher;
this calm harbor resembles a Norvegian fiord from where the Vikings left in small vessels.
Serenity is deeply felt, but not readily greeted as in other milder seasons,
and I can endure the harshness of any winter day with this heavy coat...
the cold and hungry beggar could use it and keep herself warm and sleep peacefully at night;
where's she? I've been sitting by the ocean, she hasn't come to melt away my frozen tears!
GOD’S SHADOW/for contest
There were prayers – hollow, empty – prayers.
Oh, the hands were folded, heads bowed,
voices muffled in saint-like submission,
reverberating the words – following
as children do - just a little behind.
Prayers of supplication, beseeching forgiveness
for the unimaginable sin of being born – in sin.
Humble prayers of thanks that “we” were not like “them”,
that “we” would be saved by this God of unconditional
and unreciprocated love.
We prayed “in the shadow of the church”, literally
its twin spires towering above us, we prayed in
the “belly of the beast” – bright, shiny, gold, frankincense,
and murmurs of a past. Silenced before the idled saints
frozen in eternal heavenward gestures.
I hid the child, protected him, allowed him time
to find peace with himself, to learn to trust
in the beauty of a flower, touch the truth in
solemn strength of twisted Elm, hear the
near soundless song of the flowing river.
Upon awakening, we joined souls and prayed.
Giving thanks for the strength that held us as one,
the tenacity to continue to live, courage to know
there is a “god” and we are one.
I am the shadow of that “god”.
John G. Lawless
5/18/2015
submitted to – Prayertime Memories – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Isaiah Zerbst
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it..." E.E. Cummings
Hello my dearest darling, it was our time to wake,
The rustic rooster had already roused my reverie,
Heralding the dewy dawn
Of our new great day.
For I could never live without you.
I yearned for your presence all the time.
Everywhere in the countryside was peace
And crowned with our steadfast love
With the sound of nurturing nature.
As I lay on our comfy broad bed,
I looked at my still-slumbering wedded wife.
Her fragrant freckled face looked on so serenely,
A soft sweet smile hovered on her luscious lips
So peaceful and fair,
As if she were amid many pleasant placid dreams
So I could not bear to wake her up and spoil
Her various favorite fantasies.
Suddenly her emerald eyes fluttered wide open,
And saw my boyish grim smiling seductively at her.
She grabbed my head and lowered me on her lips
That smell of lavish lavender filled my nostrils.
This was a harmonious heaven on earth.
Later we went down for our favorite food,
We rode our bikes and pedaled hard,
Admiring the snow-capped mountains that rose far.
Cedars, larches, and junipers adorned the steep slopes
Where eagles, kites and vultures flew
Searching for their potential prey.
Whilst on the grassy picturesque plain,
Warblers, thrushes and orioles
Twittered their serenade symphony songs.
Finally, we arrived at my Taverna
And beckoned the masterful Manager.
Heard the required report on the gains I made.
Everything was smooth
For I wear my enchanting emotions up my sleeve.
We idled the dreamy day away,
Hugging and kissing most of the time.
Partook of a delicious dinner for two,
But at closing time we went back home,
To a well-needed restful rural repose
In each other’s enticing embrace.
Placed 1st
the 1934 model 40 B Fordor deluxe sedan idled outside the gas station
Inside was Clyde Barrow, who was robbing the place
His moll, Bonnie Parker, sat inside the car, holding a shotgun
these notorious robbers were deemed “Robin hood figures”
This was the Great Depression; their crime spree teased imaginations
Stories and rumors followed them from Texas to Missouri
They took their gangster car to Oklahoma and New Mexico
Robbing gas stations, and small town banks
People liked watching them shoot things up and act wild
They were famous for their daring and their pizzazz
Bonnie was only twenty four when she died
Clyde was twenty-five, but they are remembered
and weirdly revered, even though they were gangsters
who terrorized people and small town bankers
they outsmarted the police for twenty-one months
their crime spree was a subject of books and a movie
which has continued their legacy; making them forever famous.
Hands of time are pacing, I'm idled and numb. Dreams and wishes that never wanna materialize, stare in the far reach of my hopes, only dust traces are witnessed. Impatience, cripples my sanity, I wanna comfront, point fingers but then I'm only a player in this game
check to those we ran on the same race, I'm miles behind, the gap creates drift of anger and faithless energies in me. I stumble in wonders, days of my persistance and devotion. scale of my achievements yet uttures in volumes so high to those of my competiters
sense of the matter in hand, runs in opposite direction to my mind. Though it's known to me, that success has no first runner but this fleshly mind and heart of mine are in dispute, I just can't cease this fire, wanna node yes but battling acceptance, wanna be patient but age and situation strangles me out of my body, wanna bow but head stiffens, wanna forge smile but dissapoint frowns me, constantly. I'm hopeless
#Poetic_Ink