Long Labels Poems
Long Labels Poems. Below are the most popular long Labels by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Labels poems by poem length and keyword.
it's Fashion Week in New York City and the people just can't wait
to see the lastest trends that the designers will demonstrate
to all the fashionistas with their obssession to impress
tis the season to be a woman of style in the way that you dress
for true fashion is about representing one's identity by the clothing one wears
but fashion is fickle and it's a crazy and unpredictable world out there
one day you may be in and the next day you may be out
but if your wearing the garments of God your fashion style is never in doubt
celebrity endorsements, designer labels and someone's logo on your butt cheeks
there's nothing wrong with the external facade but it's the internal you need to seek
you've been baptized and now you are a new creation in Christ
wearing Divine Designer garments to go with your new life
you have been stripped of the old way of dressing
now wearing the virtues of God in a way most impressing
high fashion from that Universal Designer known as Our Lord God
wearing His Divine creations to go with your brand new heart
Patience is now the pantyhose where your divine foundation starts
Compassion is now that delicate silk blouse worn over your heart
Kindness displayed like a heavenly pair of shoes upon your feet
Humility is now that stylish hat that makes your outfit complete
Forgiveness worn like a precious and expensive pair of gloves
and last but not least that glorious overcoat that God calls love
dressed in Divine Designer garments from the inside out
dressed for success with a stylish spiritual clout
you don't need a Louis Vitton sash around your waist
if you have the Belt of Truth cinched firmly in place
you won't need a Ralph Lauren chemise to cover your back
as the Breastplate of Righteousness will protect from any and all attacks
you don't need a pair of Jimmy Choos stiletto high heels
as the Readiness of the Gospel of Peace is a much better deal
you don't require a Prada handbag just to show you're with it
if you have in your hand the Biblical Sword of the Spirit
and it's not necessary to put on Ban de Soleil
as the Shield of Faith will cover you each and every day
and you don't need a Kate Spade hat upon your head
as the Helmet of Salvation will have you spirit led
dressed from the inside out now totally and spiritually clad
dressed in the virtues of God, the finest garments to be had
Dear Reader,
Greetings! I hope you are having a wonderful day, or evening if you are just reading this.
No, really, from the depths of my soul, my spirit waves a double-handed "Hi!" to yours.
Come, bring your philosophical coffee cup or tea cup or cup of whatever your favorite
beverage is and sit beside me, across the e-ther. May I ask why you are reading this? You
want to read poetry, I understand, and this is not really poetry. Or is it? Could this
count as free verse? I would not call it a sonnet or a haiku, except in the loosest
possible definition, in the way that drawing outside of the lines can be a drawing and a
de Kooning painting consisting of a chunky orange paintstroke can be considered to depict
a woman. But what makes poetry poetry, or art art for that matter? The medium? The
observer? The intent? Surely Warhol's footage of people sleeping would never be considered
art except for the presence of the camera and the eventual distribution. A man sleeping
miles from a camera or canvas would not likely be considered art, so does the camera
serially produce art? Most people would not consider home movies to be art. So is art
merely a stamp that we all carry around in our frontal lobes? Is life a form of art
regardless of what we call it? In this day and age, in which all rules seem to be broken,
rewritten, broken again, stretched like an old t-shirt, ripped, worn as a new fashion, and
then broken again, have we evolved to the point where we see rules as artificial labels,
something outside our own world that no more exist than the square root of negative one?
Is this letter a poem in spite of itself? What do you think? We may never know for sure,
and if this entry gets deleted from the site, I suppose the answer is a thunderclap "No."
In fact, after thinking it through, I am fairly confident that this is actually not a
poem. These labels are an earnest attempt to creates links in the world, without which
this entire treatise would make no sense. What would Petrarch have thought? What would
Warhol have thought? Or Andy Kaufman? Either way, I guess this is probably not a poem. But
thank you for having read these thoughts of mine, swirling like pagan revelers around my
head. Thank you for reading my non-poem which may actually be a poem but isn't. I bid you
a wondrous and blessed day. Or night.
Yours,
-Michael
It took many years for me to love me
For rich or for poor the body keeps the score.
Society is always on the go no time to be still,
no time to chill, we are expected to go with the flow
To be authentic, eccentric quirky, society resents this
to be different in society’s eyes is a no.
Present in the present everything must be fast no time to be slow.
It took many years for me to love me the way the I in the word individual
Deserves to be loved.
Society has a way of making one feel trapped and detached.
For all the math equations, anxiety frustrations the I in this individual
Has gone through subliminal it has took many years to find out that the
I in this individual never needed to fit in. Because I all ready fit within
The F and the T in between the word FIT.
For the love Individual I deserves is the IT in the word FIT.
The I in the individual already exists in the word LIFT
As the I begins the journey of elevation.
It took many years for me to love me the way the I
Deserved to be loved by a better half as if part of me was missing.
Half a man stumbling through life unsure about his place in the
World that places labels upon your existence twisting and breaking
You down expecting you to stand with a smile when life calls from an UNKNOWN NUMBER
the voice message reads “You better not frown”.
Don’t show your broken places, fractures or fragments.
This society’s systems can slow you down watch you drown and remain stagnant.
It took many years for me to love me
As if the I in individual was broken.
But the greatest love story I ever lived
Wasn't written in sonnets.
It was whispered in my bathroom mirror
At 3 AM when I finally said,
"I see you. I hear you. You matter."
The greatest love story started
When I stopped apologizing
For taking up space,
For laughing too loud,
For crying too hard,
For being too much
Or not enough
For anyone else's comfort.
This body has carried me through heartbreak,
These hands have created magic,
This mind has survived storms
That would have leveled cities.
These scars are not failures;
They are proof that I fought
And I'm still here.
I learned to fill my cup with kindness towards the boy I used to be
Now, when I love her, it over flows as we come together scars and all
on this journey called GROW.
Born with a complex like a tormented fugitive in a constant flight from a life of acceptance, his Life is filled with questions and complexities. There is no room
for blame. In a secret place, he was crafted skillfully; non are the same.*
Stored away in my garage are many items of relative values. Some have little
to no value and are pleading for me to tossed them. Others are just put in containers relative to their size and shape. Some totes contain various items
with distinct labels of identity. Some are boxed; some are in totes; some are very clearly 'marked'. Fragile people are Like boxes of beautiful jars and
choice pottery. Such ones must be cushioned and shielded, with postings, signs, and markings, less they be broken in a thousand pieces. There is a
Divine Mandate requiring us to be sensitive and protective of them. To do less is to be a lesser human. Always present is that inability to stand
up to conflict and withstand insensitive people. He cries easily and hurts badly. He requires special touches of love and human kindness. The 'marked
ones' are so designated, not because he is more important; but rather, because he is so very fragile, and must be handled with care. The one who
would dare to bully or mistreat him will himself be uncovered and revealed as one with much disfunction and sickness. No elasticity; No bouncing ability; No
flexibility; as if crafted in a sea of glass. He is entrenched with fragility. Finished and matured glass is highly useful, but is very vulnerable and easily
cracked and broken. Some of us are strong and solid like a rock. Some of us are weak and vulnerable like sheets of glass. We all are made in God's image
and likeness. You and I have an intrinsic worth of high and equal value. May we be as HE who notices every falling bird**, and embraces us as HIS friends.
10132017 PS Contest, Fragility, Hamilton,5P *Psalm 139:15, **Matthew 10:39
It’s Cultural hypocrisy,
Like monks selling books on oxford street,
Like a political debate on your screens,
Like when Donald lost Queen Lizzy.
R.I.P to lil peep!
And the other 2 million that died this week,
*** faked his own death,
And it only matters if you’ve trend-set.
It’s cultural insanity,
Like Grenfall tower’s insurance fees,
The 3,000 suicides a week,
And the worst one; Love Island on your screens.
Meghan Markle’s family send their best,
Kanye says he loves Kanye West,
Like doing the floss at a dentist,
It only matters if you’ve trend-set.
It’s cultural satire comedy,
Like playing Fortnite for 2 weeks,
A hobo getting mad cause you gave him 10p,
Proudly sharing your insecurities.
I’m a vegan but sometimes I like to eat beef,
But don’t get mad, I have ADHD,
I love labels, in fact I’m obsessed,
And it only matters if you’ve trend set.
It’s culture clarity,
Like watching **** and not clearing your history,
And thinking you're as safe as safe can be,
And then seeing ads about small willies.
But none of that applies to me,
I’m obviously talking theoretically,
Changing subject... Can Ant survive without Dec?
Too soon? Or simply the latest trendset?
It’s cultural spirituality,
And I achieved enlightenment when I was three,
And then forgot what it all means,
And now I’m depressed.
It must be cause I read it on the news,
And in the papers so it must be true,
Or was it fake? I sometimes forget,
Too distracted by all the trend-sets.
It’s culture profanity,
Like your mum telling you it’s avocado for tea,
Like your grandma offering to buy you weed,
Was that just me?
I totally detest avocado for dinner,
And parents who buy their kids fidget spinners,
My patience I admit, is on the edge,
I’m sick to death of all these trend-sets.
Since when was an opinion as valid as a fact?
Since when was it ok to believe the earth is ing flat?
And we sit and wonder why we’re all so incest,
Its cause you only matters if you trendset
Yes, this culture is distracting me
And stopping me from finding peace,
By making me want to make money,
And tempting me with comedy.
So I’ll end this poem with some advice,
And I’ll try my best to make it nice,
To have a nice life, and live the best,
Do everything and anything, apart from trend-set.
It’s cultural.
She sits on the bathroom floor
Hiding behind a tightly closed door
Afraid that prying eyes will see
What society has forced her to be
With fingers pushed halfway down her throat
On the remains of dinner she silently chokes
The taunting cries of her classmates in mind
Loudly calling her fat all the time
Just a size ten but not a three
Like the girls in magazines you see
Thighs that need to be as slim as a boys
Boobs need to be as large as flotation toys
He sits and stares at his pale skin
Apparently white is out, tan is in
Long hours spent on a tanning bed
Risking skin cancer to fit in instead
Only sixteen, muscles not developed yet
Need to be leaner and stronger he frets
And so the need to be more than he is drives
To bottles of steroids he soon arrives
The school bell rings, all the kids scatter
Except one lonely girl that seems not to matter
Classified as poor by the labels on her jeans
Not worth socializing with by those that have means
The parking lot is filled with such flashy cars
Kids talking on cell phones, their heads in the stars
Gucci sunglasses draped across their nose
Life as an stereotype dawns clear and slows
Everyone wants to emulate a great big star
Society tells them it's no good to be who you are
You have to be better than everyone else you see
The thinner, the tanner, the richer, the better you'll be
Girls should be blond, blue eyed and demure
Sexy and seductive, rich and not poor
Boys should be muscular yet tanned and lean
With smiles so white they blind when seen
Everyone needs to drive a fast fancy car
Designer clothes are the very best by far
For all those that don't fit the wonderful dream
The world doesn't even see them it seems
Too much hype splashed across billboards to the young
Expectations are too high but are haphazardly slung
Into the schoolyard the hype does quickly spread
Feeding egos and turning them into bullies instead
Those that have more and who fit the desired mold
Hassling those that haven't reached the gold
Next thing you know there's a kid with a gun
Trying to silence the voices of everyone
Then we wonder what happened to him
Well the truth is, he just couldn't fit in
Too many stereotypes not enough understanding
Life just became too absolutely demanding
I forgive the stars sleeping in nothingness,
too afraid to embrace eclipsed spheres…..
In the midst of sweltering gloaming,
I ascend, obscured and tarnished,
like a tainted trinket lost
in the tangerine haze.
For I’ve long been burning
from the coals of stigma~
stamping labels upon troubled torrents,
using malignant metals,
mirroring the fear within lichen eyes,
consumed by ancient
arrows of anguish~
from the era of Hercules and Midas.
But if only they knew, there is
no remedy for the jaded jewels that
refuse to sparkle,
for my purity remains unseen in
growing darkness,
oblivious to the liquid gold
that flickers compassion,
as they see not
beyond their fractured vision.
O distorted colors of the sun,
I’m not your perplexed perspective;
I breathe in hues of humanity,
infused with luminous lavender.
I’m not a Medusa siren luring you
to serpentine rocks;
I swim in chromatic, evanescent streams,
brimming with blissful bioluminescence,
illuminating my way under the midnight sky.
I’m not the suffocating wintry winds
freezing oxygen in your lungs.
While it seems your tongue is silenced
and tied to the twisted strings
of broken instruments,
I ink words of hope and
empathy upon your cynical skin.
I am more than the blind rage
seeping in fury.
I’m not a heartless harpy
screeching into the emptiness~
drenched in despair,
pushing boundaries to
the ends of the earth.
I am Atlas holding the world on
his shoulders,
I am the glistening stars aching
to touch the silver ring around
the jasmine moon.
But life is like a helix fixated
on unconscious bias,
constantly critical of diverse dialects,
watching me struggle to stand
under the weight of pressure,
knees buckling as your assumptions
lacerate me, breaking me down,
burying me in your ruthless riddles.
I feel rumbling dirt beneath
my bleeding feet.
My sarcophagus is rising,
built from your putrid ideals of me.
Losing footing, I refuse to fall into
the seething seas of sorrow.
So remember, I was never
the soulless monster hiding
beneath your ignorant bed.
But I am now the skeletons
etched within the cataclysmic
aftermath of your
shallow misconceptions.
“Differences”
Differences, a point or way in which people or things are not the same
One day we can all see each other, not for our differences, but our shared humanity
We make assumptions about each other that are unfair, based on nothing more than our own biases
See each other, not as adversaries, but as fellow human beings
Hatred and prejudices are learned emotions, that are deeply embedded in the human psychic
Even with conflict, there is always the potential for growth
It takes courage to admit when you’re wrong
The experience started with hostility, but should end with understanding and respect
Differences can be subjective and objective, ask yourselves, what can I positively gain
Accepting the differences of another, will require a changed perspective, that will be the beginning of a changed heart
Yes we all think, act and make decisions differently, which only makes us human
People often speak about freedom, which has a different meaning for everyone
Freedom is not really free, because there is always a heavy price to pay for the illusion
Ethnic races and cultures are nothing more than labels of identity
Our differences for some, harbor deep rooted racism, that which can be conquered from within the heart
Meet your fellow brothers and sisters where they are, walk a mile in their shoes
Don’t discount the plight of others, because you will never know how your own life will be impacted
As a human race, many people are quick to judge, really not knowing the other person’s history
The world construct is blinded by jealousy and envy, which dreadfully effects the moral character of our society
Re-examination and re-evaluation of our inner spirit, is the guide post of action required for peace
As long as our differences continue to divide us, there will never be an opportunity for reconciliation and connection of purpose
Our human frailties can’t be the sinking ship that prevents the human experience from realizing the common ground that we so fervently seek
Simply decide if you want to die on the road of those differences, or be lifted up on the throne of our commonalities
We are all God’s children, so why drive a wedge to separate those commonalities, where’s the empathy
Author: Floyd Neal
Written: September 6, 2024
Inspiration: Turmoil in the world
What is the big deal difference
between universal wholeness
and interdependent HereNow fragmentation?
How are they combined
to make one Left/Right
Ego/EcoHabitat
bilateral identified whole?
In an organic system,
a mindbody, for illustrative purposes,
perhaps a mature branched-out tree trunk
supported by a subterranean root feeding network,
whether ecosystemic outside
or egosystemic inside,
separating WinWin cooperative organs
leads to expectations of natural/spiritual dividing death,
abandoning each neglected interdependent part
to stand and fall nakedly Lose/Lose alone,
Positive mutual trusted default Virility,
Resilience hijacked by LeftBrain dominant
Either Win Or Lose bipolar
fundamentally autonomous claustrophobic terror,
morbidity.
Development of cooperating
competing labels
for language interdependent with co-relational experience
studies healthy WinWin organic communal communicating ways
Noting LeftBrain developed deductive dominating capacity
to tear away interdependent transubstantiating pieces
of universal creolizing ionizing wholes
While also inductively RightBrain remembering
how we originally worked and played
cooperatively
holistically combined together.
I want to dance time backward
to sing our larger CreationStory multiculturing view.
Wholeness is a polypathic health goal
Interdependence is a polyphonic wealth outcome--
resilience with resonance
An EarthTribe ubiquitously democratic Place
we can sacredly return to
with Left deductive YangEgo
and Right inductive YinEcoRelational
reawakening Prime ZeroZone win/win
within multiculturing health/wealth polypathic us.
WinWin personal and political history
slowly unfolds, refolds, prefolds, folds
before our revolutioning newborn eyes
as we expand our DNA family organic vision
to see matriarchal cooperative universal ZeroZones
Global composed of interdependent health care Local
Wealth previews, reviews, unviews,
double-binding Ego/Eco Creation Stories.
Perhaps the primal difference
between LeftBrain Universalists
and RightBrain Unitarianists
is this difference
Between which one hand is clapping
Which one foot is dancing
Which one integral voice is cooperatively co-passioned
co-arising
SecularHere with Sacred MultiCultural-MultiGenerational Now.
Perceptions of a ragged space,
all that was left by the human race,
there's not a lot left to see at all,
as their carelessness was seldom small.
Let's dig around
in that frazzled ground,
for that's where there's bound to be,
some signs of dodgy chemistry
or maybe just a little radiation,
the sort that killed another nation,
though they said it wasn't bad at all,
any effects would be so very small,
just as asbestos would never embroil
us in disease, nor would a little spilt oil.
But profit ruled the minds of men,
the bosses say do this thing and then,
you'll have enough to pay the rent,
but wouldn't as it was always spent
on a merry night out with the boys,
long before those electric toys
just sinking pints to rinse the dust,
before staggering home all filled with lust,
Then some had coal with a price too pay,
only if they 'bought it', down the pit one day,
other times they might just cough it out,
smuggled home in their lungs no doubt,
or maybe they were lost out in the wild sea
aiming to catch that fishy for the rich folks tea,
others were mangled up in the cotton mill wheels,
where safety guards didn't hide belts and reels..
And ever as man moved to make it safer than before,
some new peril would be found to drop men onto the floor
be it from a toxic gas or perhaps a mercury leak,
what did it matter while some profit they'd seek,
the waste might well taint the rivers and poison all
the fish they ate and so keep their children small,
small and weedy with some horrendous rash
while the air was grey with muck and ash.
I could go on for many a verse,
but I've no wish to be perverse,
for by now the penny will have dropped
for those whose brains have not been shot,
by additives to make processed food have taste
or keep it 'fresh' longer so as not to waste,
any scraps of reclaimed muck and gristle,
oh dear, now I've gone and blown the whistle.
And thats before I even mention the Taiji men
who slaughter dolphins by the thousands and then
sell their flesh with labels as if another meat,
what is it that Japan now consumes for a treat,
I wonder do they ever know for sure,
what it is they bring in through their doors
and so the follies still go on and on
do you wonder why I feel so strong?
©Rhumour
August 28th 2010