Long In charge Poems
Long In charge Poems. Below are the most popular long In charge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In charge poems by poem length and keyword.
Yes I've been through the mill
but stronger for it...happier too.
Though I forgave... but cant forget
I remember the lessons I learned so well.
Think of others before yourself.
Give to others from the little you have
share a smile..wish others well
extend love to everyone.
Pain and hardsip were my fare
for many a day ...many a year
but time... that soothing balm
heals the heart...touches the spirit with a gentle hand,
while Angels loving and kind
strengthen us in difficult times.
The body may suffer..the heart tremble,
may be pierced by thorns and thistle
which in the end ....burn and shrivel.
God sees ....He knows and
walks beside us thwarting evil.
Do not worry..have no fear
He is always near.
He knows not time....but He's in charge.
The tests he sends us.....
Make us stronger...and tougher
helps us view each day
from a new perspective.
Thank you Father,
I'll do whatever you say
and never .....never will I question Your way.
Europe is stuck in the past
Europe’s leaders have to see that the world has changed but continue to pursue a globalist agenda through the EU, where all of Europe’s nations from the cold North to temperate Spain should speak with the same voice, in happy unity
The Great Victor Orban disagreed and was hated, he believed that individual countries should decide their own future to create, if you like, a multi-power structure; globalists angrily objected to this state of affairs
Up from dark minds the Russia hatred arose among the leaders, suggesting they could arm Ukraine to go on fighting a lost war but the people do not fear Russia, in Norway it is a place for shopping, buying Russian vodka and so on
In Norway, whoever party is in charge lays down laws restricting what their inhabitants can do or not do and think, knowing what is best for the people believe, and they are not ashamed to bring religion into this. This is a micro-cosmos of
Europe’s strangulation of people’s free will and they have the nerve call this social democracy which to a set of rules that is an enemy of free will, free expression where people are banned for having an opinion contrary to officialdom
You might think restriction of booze and how much vodka you can take home after a trip to Russia, by-laws are made to make you safe and before you know, you can be arrested for carrying a cigarette lighter in your pocket
Percentages
By: Miracle Man
12/4/2018
I had an eight percent chance that I’d survive,
Now, approaching two years hence I remain alive.
God didn’t use percentages that New Year’s Day,
He remained in charge and had things His way.
In the choice of surgeon’s, I didn’t have a voice,
A last minute change, a sub, became God’s choice.
It was part of God’s plan that man couldn’t see,
But in ensuing days this Doctor prayed for me.
To hospital staff, I became a witness, to some,
They sensed God’s power had changed the outcome.
My Cardiologist called me Lazarus, others, miracle man,
Today I’m alive because I’m part of God’s plan.
I heard it from a good source that there ARE toilets in heaven
they are called thrones and you must be pure to sit on one
When you do your BM it quickly turns gold, like the sun
aromatizing the sky with scent of roses at the count of seven
I heard it from a good source that there are chutes in heaven
aluminum coated tubes that deliver your innards to earth in a jiffy
you'll feel so Holy you'll want to hurry up and take a sniffy
before it all goes away, hug it, and then count to seven
I heard it from a good source, the Angel in charge of pollution
that when Satan imposters arrive they are poked with a pin
then as the dung falls out, it gets neutralized with oil infusion
and sent back to that greasy devil who so loves sin
So, if you spot a villain from hell better count until eleven
then flush twice and it will be eliminated from heaven
I heard it from a good source that Angels are savvy and smart
you can't get away with **** , for they got it down to an art.
November 4, 2021
Sponsor Jack Webster
Contest Name The Throne in Heaven
It started early for me - using words sailors are supposed to know
My parents had no idea where I got them.
I figured it was my last lifetime
When I was a pirate.
I could cuss with gusto at an early age.
Dhraammit! I would yell when I tried to walk and fell on my knees.
What did she say? My parents asked each other,
hoping it was not what it was.
I got my mouth washed out with a bar of Ivory soap
by the time I was four and was using these words:
SLURP! SMARL! MACH! WHOOOP! CHICAKE
Chicake meant cat, but they thought it meant something else.
They were the parents, and in charge of the soap
So gurgle, gurgle, spit, spit, gurgle, gurle, choke, choke.
I rapidly learned to not swear around my parents
However, I was quite selective in my friend-choosing.
I did not surround myself with the super religious
Or the super judgmental, which were often the same actually.
I surrounded myself with other reincarnated pirates like me.
Dhrammit, it’s not my turn to swab the deck! No swhit?
Gold ring procured from Navy exchange
Merry-go-round petals etched in black
Two lives in rearrange
Gifted a wedding plaque
~
I was expecting; he had tonsillitis
I carried child; he had an ‘ectomy
A throaty bangup to wedded bliss
Eureka earthquake; baby makes three.
~
Life was swell; ding-dong dandy pell-mell
Engaging in everyday realities
Smile-burps, cow-eyes, infantile dinner bell
Bottomless dirty diapers, scrubbing onesies
~
Who would stay awake and watch the kid?
I did it everytime…. “tag you’re it!”
No one can count sheep like a squid
Apparently, I’m in charge of this outfit
10/4/2021
I dedicate this poem to Thomas Cunningham,
who I admire for the tales he tells in poetry form.
MUTINY
I stands at the bow
Proud to lead
I get the first catch
and splash
Pretense while I breathe
as if our lips our sealed together
in this hallowed breeze
The skill of his hands
that masterfully guide
the ship to the seas
My intricate gown
he sees only in his dreams
as he feels the form
underneath
with his intrepid heart
His feet firmly planted
on deck,
this captain of mine,
steers the ship
He must think of the coins
the greed, the gold
under the nose
of his crew
They often smirk
and besmirch his name
under tobacco’d breath
and the stench
of a whore’s perfume
My hair is in disarray,
I dread his fate
under the hallowed moon
The thunder roars
from a shotgun
into the air it soars
In chains, he’s still in charge,
his thoughts for me alarmed
I’m pale and soaked,
the downpour mad
And so am I
My knees bend
My hands fold
My head bound
to see you through
You stand at the brawny depths
where the sirens roar,
where tremendous teeth
and hideous fins
nearly frighten you
I beg for your pardon,
plead for your soul
The head shark
leans in with stain’d fangs
mercilessly mocking,
tearing up the captain
with dead man tales
The compass spins
wildly as the traitor
vehemently describes
the fishbait before his eyes
The treasured bride
asks for a trade
her life for his
The sand sinks her knees
“No, no, Josephine!”
her sisters on her trail
“Take ours, us two,
save both of them!”
The Lord wipes his tears
and takes the dears
into his arms,
safe from the storm
The tables turn
as a sail
slices the air
rebuking the mutiny
and the crew they stare
as their daring
is circled and bit...
one arm, one leg,
one ear at a time
They’ve seen nothing like this
Then their eyes open
A light from the bow
They rub their eyes
but still they see the captain’s bride
She smiles like the crystal sea
She waves and disappears
The crew drops their gear,
unties the captain,
begs mercy,
unless they go down with the ship!
10/10/2020
Unmetered narrative
God I am forever awed by you
Of your power
Of how you are in control of all things
Even when we don’t understand it
I just have the vision of you
Standing there looking at us
Smiling
Yes you are in control
What are You up to Lord?
We would never know
But we will trust in You
You are so observant Lord
And you know all things
There is nothing happen without your knowledge
God you control all things
We should know better
We will leave it all up to You Lord
The Master of the Universe
The Ruler of the Spheres
The Commander of the Elements
The Controller of our Existence
The Director of Living Things
Lord of all
My name is Bond, Els Bond, and I live in Africa where I was born and belong.
On my continent, I do not work solo – my entire herd shares my mission mojo.
Here, many human lives are needlessly spent from illness meds would prevent.
Spying, I learned drug companies and doctors require green to become helpers.
My herd needs green vegetation so I tried human green as an exploration.
It upset my digestion, concerned me and launched my herd’s investigation.
Zebras meant well, monkeys and tigers did, too, so I gave them things to do.
I credit them now, though they fell apart over who was in charge of who
and could not recall instructions without many elephant-styled, memory clues.
In summary, we worked day and night gathering all in dire health plights.
For months we have brought humans to our camp, way out of snooping-sight.
Step one done, the other animals fell apart just as step two was due to start.
Ms. Currency-Cent, my assistant, helped me plan for any possible resistance.
Disguised as double-decker buses, we raided the city for all drugs in existence.
Many raids went down before a doctor and surgeon were found, then bound,
thrown in our trunks, taken to camp, where shaken, not stirred, they emerged.
Now they are too busy with the ill to feel any first waves of a selfish cave.
Tonight – step three: acquire a special hostage, not that we feel man can stop us, but to guarantee an eventual global mention of our elephant herd’s intentions: We wish media to showcase our success over medical greed’s endless feed.
As my bravest brother and sister elephants stand guard with grand eminence,
I am in route to kidnap a drug CEO while hoping this final plan is pure excellence.
My gentle, intelligent side now calls upon my side much braver
because there is one plan component my brain does not favor -
access to my target is only gained by an elevator.
Brian Strand's Personification Contest
December 11, 2016
Come my cattle
Come my sheep
Waddle to the place
Where I tell you to sleep
Stop your thinking
Don’t utter a peep
We are in charge
Of you and your thought
We pay for your ass
Your life we bought
Don’t ***** whine or moan
It’s you and your ass we own
Yes we can now say this to your face
We no longer need to hide
We own the human race
Do you think we ever really care?
If you do
Then you deserve the misery you share
We can’t help but laugh at all you fools
For years you’ve been our slaves
And our obedient tools
We trained you like dogs
And baited you like fish
Now with the world on the brink
All you can do is wish
Pathetic that you have lost your sight
Despicable that you have no fight
You deserve to be fleeced like sheep
Instead of standing up for yourselves
You cower and weep
We feel no pity or remorse
You gave us this power
And set the course
So please continue to wallow in shame
You only have yourselves to blame
As we continue to play our game
Eric (and sometimes not)