Long Least Poems
Long Least Poems. Below are the most popular long Least by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Least poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm a blue collar worker who works outdoors
and I'm also required to wear a hard hat all day.
My exposed skin and face tan at a very fast pace,
but beneath that hard hat, absolutely no way.
The last time I went bandanna free,
someone got distracted, lost their footing and tripped.
All I heard as I fled the scene was, "Did you see that human Q-tip?"
In addition to speaking in rhyme, I dress in black all the time
but that shouldn't reflect upon my personality.
I just claim not to be so great when I attempt to color coordinate
but the simple truth is black is safe and I'm just lazy.
I live the single lifestyle and by that I simply mean that I have chosen to live alone.
I enjoy True Solitude, so I don't share living quarters very well.
My home has to be My Home.
I keep mostly to myself but that shouldn't suggest that I can't be the life of the party.
Back in my day I wore many a lampshade.
Now I've calmed down. I don't party too hearty.
Well, enough about me. What about you?
What are your interests, your passions?
What do You like to do?
Who knows where this might go or how it might end.
At the very least, I Hope to find A Real and True Friend.
Oh yeah, one last thing I need to mention to you.
A little sex from you also would be very nice too.
I was doing very well. I was doing just fine
and then I had to blow it with the very last line.
Am I right ladies? Damnit!
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Please do not respond to the above ad ladies. It is now null and void. I pretty much live the
life of a hermit these days.
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Born thin, gaunt
Homely, to say the least
A beggar's table
Never seated to feast
Always without
But happy within
An open magnet
To wanton men
Words are sharp
Spirit is sweet
But only snakes
Surround her feet
Always getting through
Victory is her lot
Believing THIS
Is all she's got
Where's the living
In a life of pain
Unless the command is given
To bring it back again
A life well lived
Is a mind well managed
Unity in operation
Reclaiming authority from the advantaged
The war is over
LOVE has lifted the veil
We are remembering the self
No Archon can quail
Written by Trudy Schrader on 01-27-2028
Why don't people say what they mean?
or at least mean what they say,
the language we use can be misunderstood
and becomes more confusing each day.
I keep seeing these adverts for travelling
you can go by road, rail, sea or air,
I would like to see a demonstration
to show me how it's done,if they dare.
For travelling by road is just suicide
I doubt you would get very far,
unless of course what you really mean
is that you are going by car.
Going by rail is a balancing act
in which you have nothing to gain,
you might find it much less stressful
if you simply went by train.
Of course some people will go by sea
if you're swimming here's a good tip,
give it up and save your energy
it's much easier to go by ship.
To those who prefer to go by air
this method is really insane,
unless you've learned to fly like a bird
you're much safer catching a plane.
I have chestnut brown beautiful long hair..................it is not true
The green eyes I inherited from my grandmother`s cat
Always happy and have a nice trilling laugh...............it is not true
I hate being cold and have dense nose...............true
Do not like rainy days....but love the sunshine............that is true
I do not use high-heeled shoes, but should probably used it because I`m only 1.62 tall
I sing so beautiful when I`m in the shower...........not true
Caring, want everything that is good for others...........it`s true
I love chocolate and sweet babies...........yes, there is at least true
Are the angeles on the earth.............true or not true
A red "little woman" car..........it`s my own
If I see a sad movie, or I read something sad.......I cry a little......true
Husband, daughter,son in law,grandchildren and a big dog......that is true
I am me and I do the best that I can......................true again
If something is not quite right then it`s probably.......not true
27.05.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- Thanks for my 3rd place in the contest, Regina :) -
I believed you when you say u watch
Me grow.
Believe u say your the first person
In this family.
Making me look up to be you
Days to come.
Believe you say will move nations
Won't enter into all, at least fly over
Them.
Pride profound in all my nerves
Circulating all corners , narrating to
Every creature how it will be.
Am broken and thrown against the
Wall.
Every time you hasten like a lion that
Is greedy of his prey.
Counter attacking the cell phone,
Believe you say its not worthy weeping,
Weeping, weeping is all I remain with
Whenever you approach to leave us,
Fine , your a business man.
But we are far off crucial than that.
Believe you say you will watch me grow
And its the moment
Your leaving us for an argent business.
You have never observed my yearly
Celebrations.
Wonder if, I ever mattered to you.
Wonder if I will ever know love, love
And laughter as a united family.
Pett Ezra isaac
Psychedelic Sound
So you look at me and wonder why
I'm this kinda guy who doesn't even try
Seemingly I'm content to just get high
uninterested in your world of suit and tie
If you want a taste of my world I'll help you fly
Yes dipping into my sugar you could die
But me oh my it's better than pumpkin pie
You see I trip on all kinds of crazy
Who knew dreams could make you lazy
Colours are vibrant but the minds goes hazy
Oopsy daisy I know this is not how God made me
Still I'm more than content to groove on paisley
Walk away or come sit down
Stop being so constipated and rule bound
Slippdy do wop over to the dark sida town
Here square pegs like you become round
All of your missing bits won't be found
Yet you'll be flying high laying flat on the ground
loving every colour looking for psychedelic sound
Part of me feels bad I opened up the door
at least you don't fight those demons no more
Here even the concrete feels like a seashore
If you listen right you can hear the waves roar
Live ten years in just a minute or four
The spot you puncture won't even feel sore
Through my fog I heard whispers you were found
eyes glazed over, flat on the ground
I thought I was just imagining the gurgling sound
What's done is done it can't be rewound
You're probably better off under that mound
I would have come to say good bye
But I had a trip to take way down town
You sure were a blast, I'll miss you being around!
I stand above the sleeping man,
Looking down on him at rest.
Or is he sleeping?
Is he - "at rest"?
Now I am not sure.
Perhaps he is unconscious.
Perhaps he is ... dead.
I notice he is fully clothed - with his shoes still on.
Certainly, not the attire of a man who has gone to bed ... willingly.
Is that blood upon his shirt?
I try to get my bearings.
Where exactly am I?
How did I come to be here looking down on this man?
And, who might he be?
I recognize the ring upon his hand.
That is my father's ring ...
Or, at least, it used to be ...
Before he gave it ... to me!
The flashing lights gain my attention.
I now know where I am - on the side of the road near my house.
That is my car wrapped around the tree.
The missing windshield is a reminder that I forgot to fasten my seatbelt ... again.
And that man I stand above is ...
Or, rather, used to be ...
Me
I ran across a photo of our old dog Whitman with Thanksgiving just a day away…
It was a photo of him healthy and happy…before his cancer took him away.
I remember before we got him, thinking why spend all that money…all that time
all that cleaning…all that doubt…
I mean all that time caring, all that worrying…what’s that all about?
Why put us through all the troubles we know we’ll have to go through?
Why give unconditional love to an animal who’s going to die before we do?
Until Whitman came into our lives…I didn’t know how one animal could reach us…
how, through his devotion and his love…he had so much he could teach us.
So I thought I’d take a moment today…to thank him for all he taught us as our guide.
He taught us about loyalty…he never left our side.
He taught us about gratitude…he was completely happy with our attention.
He taught us about friendship…with him there was no pretension
He taught us how to love and be loved…
so many lessons we needed to learn
like how giving is only genuine…when you ask for nothing in return.
He taught us how life is short…and when it was his time to leave
He taught us about sadness…he taught us how to grieve.
He taught us how life must go on…and that once we bid adieu…
how grieving is not something we get over…it’s something we get through.
All the lessons he taught us leads me to wonder in heaven…
(at least the heaven I prefer)
If some of the angels up there
will have wings made out of fur.
Fr. Christ said “I am the living bread that came down from heaven...
If anyone eats this bread
He will live forever
Who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, abides in Me and I in him"
Essential signs of Eucharistic Sacrament are wheat bread and grape wine
Communion with the Body and Blood of Fr. Christ increases the communicant’s union
with the Lord God.
Receiving this sacrament strengthens the bonds of charity between the communicant and Fr. Christ
It also reinforces the unity of the Church as the mystical Body of Fr. Christ
The Church recommends the faithful to receive the Holy Communion at least once a year.
Fr. Christ Himself is present in the sacrament of the altar
He is to be honored with the worship adoration
To visit the Blessed Sacrament is a proof of gratitude
Expression of love
Duty of adoration toward Fr. Christ, Jesus our Lord
Written 09182012
The Day Your Child Stabs You
Version 1
In order to weep
I guess I must care;
At least enough to stress
Over these words, to share.
To her free mind, half mine
She stares down at me...
But not for one second
But perpetual eternity.
Mistakes, unforgiven,
Yet nodded upon,
social contracts in the air
But forever shunned.
The air thick with resentment
Over war zones entrenched
Like poison over drudgery
Liberty over stale love's stench.
Spreading her wings over our
Clipped flight,
And gliding over us,
As every next generation must.
I shut down and give up.
Can't be disappointed
Ever again.
Pick up your spoon or your needle
Or your bottle or pill;
Your children dance on your grave,
Before you are ever ill.
Version 2
Tell me again
Of your woke generation
I will sit in my diaper
Waiting for your instruction.
Tell me again how
Everyone has a right to their
Sexuality and
Reference points
Of they or them or assigned
At birthness.
Tell me how understanding
You are, and how your generation has
Finally got it right.
I will drink my booze
And swallow my dope
In my late 20th century
Americana maleness,
All the while shivering
In skin, too afraid to address
Any of my
personalities.
Version 3
My child steps on
Her blind spot
Which is on top
Of my mental illness
To preach from her soap box
About how prejudicial I am
Towards society's victims.