Long Last straw Poems
Long Last straw Poems. Below are the most popular long Last straw by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Last straw poems by poem length and keyword.
Petty indifferences invade your perception;
To cloud the pathways of your mind.
So that those delusions you've concocted,
Assault what’s left behind.
The trifling narrow mindedness you coddle,
Gives these fallacies their birth.
You forget your responsibilities,
When you can't recognize your self worth.
When you start barking orders;
Your ignorance comes to call!
I need no play by play;
I've no need to be told at all.
You’re giving them authority;
To hold your intelligence at bay.
Clearly I am not your enemy;
It's your anger leading you astray.
Prioritize all that rot!
Detour that confusion; get some peace.
Stop dwelling on trivial nonsense so that your problems will decrease.
Give and take as you command; it builds healthy respect.
Compromise always has the upper hand when it’s anger you reject.
Worrying is from your lack of faith;
You should never empathize your stress.
You can't let that last straw break your back,
You'll make your life a mess.
Don't take everything so critical!
Relax, you have to let it go!
Let’s sync together, you and I;
I’m your team mate, not your foe!
Took my last dime
like you stole
my last heart before it hit the ground
Crook thief is what you are
you claim you my best friend
More like a copy cat
When I look in the mirror it's like
I' am looking at another reflection of a twin
Crooked thief
Crooked thief
Crooked thief
I broke bread with you
I shared my moments with you
even introduce you to my family and friends
I can't even turn my back without
worrying that you will stab me in the back again
I pulled out the last straw and this one was short
So more like it's time to cut you off
Crooked thief
Crooked thief
Crooked thief
you got to go if you don't understand
I will spell it out for you
CUT OFF
Don't need you in my life
Tired of standing up for you
every time
when you do wrong
its seem like I' am always
the one standing in the cold
covering up for all your lies
No more
Only blood begin shed here
is mine
You cut
You leave
I 'am running out of bandages to cover up these cuts and bruises
No more of me caught in your lies
I' am cutting you off
I' am moving on
So take this last advice
You cut off
I don't need a crooked thief in my life
I bought a house that nobody else wanted.
I got it dirt cheap because it was haunted.
It was once owned by a murderess and nobody could trust her.
Things got so bad in that house that I called the Ghostbusters.
But those four women came running out of that house as fast as they could.
I thought that hiring those women was a great idea but it didn't do any good.
Everybody who lived in that house ended up in a bad shape.
The last straw came when the ghost cornered me and I was raped.
I burned down that house for the insurance because things were so creepy and odd.
But the insurance company found out and now I've been sentenced to prison for fraud.
Appreciate others in ways that fit their needs.
Bestow proper gratitude, not a rude shout-out.
Congratulate them on their many good deeds.
Delight in guidance they gave to those in doubt.
Encourage the best in all those around you.
Follow up on the happiness they have sewn.
Give thanks to those who help folks by what they do.
Have gratefulness be that for which you are known.
Include in your list of friends those who are kind.
Just tell them, “Thanks!” in the few moments it takes.
Keep those who serve others always top of mind.
Let them know the big difference their work makes.
Mention clearly how they improved someone’s life.
Notice the good things they do, which no one saw.
Owe, then pay them thanks for easing someone’s strife.
Praise may prevent the proverbial ‘last straw.’
Quality, sincere thanks is truly the key.
Repay your debts and strive to be a giver.
Salute those who from pitching in do not flee.
Thank people whose goodness flows like a river.
Understand even the selfless need support.
Value those who reject the ‘me-first’ fashion.
Welcome ones who to others provide comfort.
Xerox thanks by copying their compassion.
Yearn to be ready now to answer the call.
Zero in on making Earth better for all.
IN THE SOUP
My late aunt was always getting herself in the soup,
Wanted to share this with my poetry group,
Good clients of ours we invited home for a Greek meal
But my aunt made a mistake she couldn’t conceal,
Angelina’s boyfriend was nineteen years younger,
Handsome son said my aunt, what a lucky mother.
And before I had time to give her a kick under the table
She continued to speak nonsense, when are you due,
I whispered to my mom, your sister sounds unstable,
Yes Angelina said, I’ve put on a lot of weight of late,
I can see said my aunt , but when is your due date!
My mom walked out, she was fuming, so did my dad,
I was left holding the baby, excuse the pun,
This dinner party was getting out of control, not fun
So I said to my aunt your temperature from your flu
Has made you delirious, come lie down, but we
We were not yet out of the soup, came back in an hour,
Sat down and carried on, Jenny has told me
You have our invitations for the wedding in your
Bag and the last straw was this “my commiserations”
To the boyfriend instead of my congratulations!
Fortunately my dad was filling up Angelinas glass
And the boyfriend’s with wine,
They were quite pickled when they left,
Did no recall a thing that was said,so all was fine.
Needless to say my aunt was never again invited
When guests were around, otherwise
The next time, with pleasure would have crowned
Her myself and she would also be grounded!
After my aunt and uncle had left, we laughed hysterically
Because all was in fact said naively, not hypocritically!
English was not her mother tongue, recently
Came from Greece,
And wanted to make conversation and please,
Nothing was said intentionally.
This is the last straw
The last cold slap in the face
The last hard swallow of total disgrace
I'm tearing down this whipping post
And disappearing from your ghost
And all your constant belittling boasts
This is my own life to save
For I know you wish me an early grave
But I must be brave
And break all phoney family ties
And turn my glance from your demon eyes
And strip my soul of your hate and lies
Its sad the love you chose to hide
Is the major reason this family died
And now future generations will be denied
Those bonds so precious for love to thrive
But here and now I break the chain
And try to salvage the hope that remains
That God will bless this heart again
To live for love and be free of pain
And let my light shine through the stains
That have been washed away by the spirits rain.
A Paiute shaman named Wovoka
hailed all the tribes across the nation.
And announced himself the messiah
visions backed his bold proclamation.
Year eighteen ninety in Nevada
they came to sing and learn the Ghost Dance.
And hear of a new world prophecy
that come spring will replace bow and lance.
The earth will be covered with new soil
burying the devils with white skins.
And on that soil grows a sea of grass
where restoration of hope begins.
Herds of buffalo and wild horses
will be resplendent in their return.
And the ghosts of ancestors will come
to replace all those who would not learn.
Everyone who performs the Ghost Dance
will be lifted high into the air.
And they will stay there while earth's renewed
safely removed from the white man’s lair.
They'll be returned to the earth and
all the recent dead will revive then.
And women danced till they collapsed
pleading for the return of their men.
Every dancer wore a Ghost Dance shirt
painted with symbols of great magic.
And when told bullets couldn't pierce them
this desperate last straw turned tragic.
Written Aug.7, 2015
There was a dead little cat
Splayed in the middle lane of Washington Street
While I passed
And there was a man clumped to the curb
Pinching his chubby chin
Between his thumb and index finger
Like a final played poker chip
His eyes as flattened as aces on cards
In a corner bar across the street
While the police rubbed his shoulders and pencil notes
From the rotten sounds ground between his teeth.
Another man a driveway down
Has a nose displaced a million miles from his face
Smeared into his hanky.
Hoping no one notices
A woman wiggles in the wind out back
Like a Fentanyl clothesline clipped with a menu
Her age is a choice.
A third man on his back naps
In that front yard
Clutching his hands
To a samurai sword’s shiny blade
Slippery and stood straight up
From under and through him
Bubbling
Like a park fountain of roses.
Did it all start this morning
In their tiny crooked house?
Their cat scooting from underneath
A missed kick and through a crick
Of an unhinged front door
Out to the busy road?
If that for them
Was quite simply the last straw?
They say that those in hell won't come back. Internally in pits of darkness, it's the hardest thing to break someone free.
Wanna hear about the night that Chris Nielson died? Wanna hear about the night his wife Annie couldn't take anymore, the night Annie's mind got fried?
Both of them trying not dwell and continue to live. Both of them forced to celebrate triple D day, with so much more to give.
Chris enters first, seeing all the beauty and wonders just beyond the gate. Searching for something familiar, searching for his kids, he soon learns their fate.
Annie can't deal with the grief. Annie decides to take her own life. She finally had the last cut. They finally pulled her last straw, taking her title as a wife.
Chris can't let this be he won't her rest until home. With a heart so pure, a love so deep, he will never be alone.
To be loved this much, to be cared for more. The only hell Chris knows is a world without Annie. What a bore.
There’s Scottie in his chair
Tongue firmly in his cheek
Trying to wind up Old Noel,
The highlight of his week.
Noel, over eighty, Veteran
Of the Korean War
Gives as good as he gets
And dishes out much more.
Gordon’s his visiting carer
Sits there with a big grin
Not himself a veteran but
He’s managed to fit in.
Big Dave is eating as usual
Throwing in the odd word,
The vision of him ever fitting
In a tank now patently absurd.
Crann’s the honorary caretaker
Helping out while he waits
For his entry Visa to join
His fiancee over in the states.
Emily the teenaged volunteer
Who won’t take any lip
Has those hardened veterans
Under her slender finger tips.
Tuesday morning at The Centre,
Stacks of admin there to do,
Bur I’ve had to close the office
And get on with the brew.
It’s not yet ten o’clock
The Drop-in looks nearly full
Already starting the craic
The banter and the bull.
So many other people coming
In and out in a steady flow
As one comes in another
Just seems to get up go.
Regimental rivalries
Black Forces Humour
Downright lies and
Manufactured rumour.
Hobbie’s by the door
Taking the whole scene in,
Vic’s chatting to Chris
Who’s sat there with a grin.
That’s the way it used to be
But now it’s closed and gone
In a Covid changed world
Where things have moved on.
So many years we lasted
Existing from day to day
And then for some reason
We seemed to lose our way.
The rise of the Pandemic
Seemed to be the last straw
And the founding spirit just
Wasn’t’ there any more.
The Drop-in that helped so many
Was just too good to last
Like so many valued things
Just a memory of the past.