Long Legalized Poems
Long Legalized Poems. Below are the most popular long Legalized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Legalized poems by poem length and keyword.
I am not amazed he lost both sight and fight
She walked unfettered into calm
In "Paris Blues" one peach-clad pussycat was pursued
The Proprietor's goal lacked glitter
Historically, he knew better
She departed
He felt the blues
He wore imaginary badge of entitlement
and breathe air of pseudo pride
She read his lips, looked him in the eyes
Then smiled her clairvoyant smile
His words were weighed on scale Source
She sat snug with fuel from the Source
She knew lighthouses affording light that guides
They were transparent with genuine streaks
Should entitlement be legalized?
One fine day, more folks will cut the crap
They'll stop getting what they've got
crippling the crippled now stats
The dumb, the deaf, the blind is made new
What goal of goal beckons you?
*
The Unjust Legal Chain
Across the sea, the promises were bright:
A chance to work, to send the money home,
To lift a family, build a future right,
Leaving the soil of Africa to roam.
Hidden in the shade could be fight or flight
They boarded flights with hope packed in their chests,
To sweep the floors and serve a distant land,
To trade their youth at poverty's behest,
And place their fates into a stranger's hand.
For some, varied as a palace, a dog hound at best
But golden sands can hide a heavy chain,
Where contracts bind the spirit to the floor
The Kafala becomes a wall of pain,
Locking the world outside a heavy door.
Dilemma awaits, knocking like a trouble chain
A passport taken at the very start,
An employer who holds the right to stay,
It breaks the body and it tests the heart,
Through endless hours that swallow up the day.
Even offered rest on a hard floor mat
In quiet kitchens, far from any friend,
They nurse the bruises, wipe away the tears,
And wonder when the isolation’s end
Will come to rescue them from all their fears.
At this moment, no relative, no acquaintance and no friends
The silent walls hear whispers of a home,
Of children waiting for a mother’s voice,
While trapped beneath a cold, uncaring dome,
Stripped of their rights, their freedom, and their choice.
Trapped in a luxury but loveless, heartless home
Yet through the shadows, hidden voices speak,
And sisterhoods are formed in secret spaces.
The laws are shifting, slowly, for the weak,
As nations start to look at broken places.
Even primordial callousness, Kafala speak-s
For dignity is not a prize to buy,
And human worth can never be confined;
Beneath the vastness of the desert sky,
The captive spirit will not stay behind.
If this was gold, even dry deserts gods won't buy
The death of love
Love is blocked, too many rights
I can’t touch. I can’t talk, say anything
Man has no law. I need another world
Must destroy the present one. We love
Human-made laws never control us
Adam is the law. God is the law
Modern laws killed the loves
That’s why in the crisis, humans. Humanity
Psychology is blocking the river of life
Psychology and law. Legalized crimes
Religion, God's instructions are life. Love
Never follow human-created laws. God is on
Wake up. Dead the love. I am the last one who called
Death of love’s smell is air. Don’t be too late
Follow God. Follow Eve and Adam
There was no psychology in their time
People were healthy
From God’s laws
Killed by the psycholgy
The Love
Prime Minister of Canada, Justin Trudeau,
was born on Christmas night, I think under a star;
and became the 23rd Prime Minister of Canada,
and leader of the Liberal party;
son of former Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau.
Justin is a kind, polite, fun loving man,
he was a snowboarding instructor, night club bouncer;
was a teacher, a boxer when younger,
and legalized marijuana in Canada to shut down illegal sales;
he wrote his memoir in 2014, a bit early Justin.
As Prime Minister, he apologized on behalf of Canada,
to the Indigenous People for wrong doings through history;
and also to other communities for transgressions of the past,
he has no fear to stand up to the USA President, any leader;
during his election campaign he always remained the gentleman.
Some, may find him too passive- I see his inner strength,
he is a wonderful representative for Canada;
with his movie star good looks, easy smile and laugh,
I love his upbeat personality and positive attitude;
and I am proud to call him my leader, my Prime Minister.
______________________________
February 5, 2020
Poetry/Ode/To Prime Minister Justin Trudeau
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1223-268-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Ode To A President, or Politician or Leader,
Past or Present, sponsor, Sheri Fresonke Harper
Fourth Place
And we sat under
A gazebo that sat
Under palm trees,
Standing and smiling
At our seashore,
Emptying kegs of
Palmwine in our
Calabash and...
And then emptying
The calabash in our
Stomachs...
An exquisite experience,
I daresay!
The periwinkle-gatherer
Alighted from her
Canoe that arrived from
Upper sea, bending in her
Walk, no gratitude to her
Culture. Beside her followed
Her shadow, ever faithfully.
Their movement our common
Entertainment as we emptied
More fills of our calabash in us...
Entered the Crier, crying, like
A crying Cricket,
"The Archbishop of Canterbury,
And the Pope have now
Legalized a Skirt and another
Skirt together, and a Trouser
And its kind together!"
We unveiled the Holy Book,
In our flabbergastedness,
Afterwards, and replayed
The Crier's cry in our heads.
"A pity, for this shall soon be
Written in you by the Unknown
In Time to come and be said to
Be of the good God."
Were our only audibility.
We looked up and behold the gyre
For the legalization inundated
Our Vicinity! For the Crier's cries
Had spread its legs like a rumor.
Sadly, my partner patted her hairs
And we returned to our kegs,
Contemplating...
Alcohol can numb the pain
But it's not the best thing for it
So have a drink and have some fun
But please don't over do it.
It's can be so addictive
You may need it everyday
But when you finally sober up
Your problems haven't gone away
Some say it is in your genes
Others say it's just being weak
Either way it is an addiction
It's help, and advice you really seek
Life long abuse will destroy
Everything you ever had
When your health deteriorates
Your family will be sad
I'm not saying don't have a drink
It's safe in moderation
But drinking vodka at breakfast
Won't get you admiration
Liver failure heart conditions
Symptoms you may get
To many people gone before
Some you've never met
Alcoholism is hard to beat
It's a drug that's legalized
If you keep drinking like you do
Your internals will be fried
Family and friends are there for you
To help you beat this sordid addiction
You will then realize, alcohol kills
This is FACT not fiction
if but and also
all ran down a street
whose cousin’s mother’s sister
legalized love’s distant dream
with in on and beyond
following closely after
a key hole of time’s future now
spooked bejesus out of bounds
when shoes string along
black wholes green with envy turn
worms come out of closets
knots know not to sing a song
who’s to tell this from that
when clocks ring hollow
and all gods feel sorry
for four score is no more
the measure of all that entails
enshrined within without’s about
debts delinquent devout doubt
morrow’s mourning mewing moss
cons an injunction positively plain
predating position’s posture to fame
signing is a song’s sad dismay
crossing is a road without delay
as gold to ash dust turneth brown
merely’s mostly mitigating moves
shakes the earth’s shivering please
bordering boundless broken bones
if the sun’s heart skips a beat
then your turn will ours become
and if water cries life’s complete
put it down thou will be done
tomorrow is a stranger’s rising night
yesterday’s rose incites my light
love plays dangerous games
whose rules bend time and blesses names
the quill of now rests in peace
also how never more then ever
is not who is once was was
trolls never words were whether
The day they proclaimed addiction to be a disease
is the day drug abuse spread like a weed.
The powers that be profit from prolonged disease
not so much from personal responsibility.
They legalized dope to keep people pacified and numb
,, then lay tax on the working man-play us for chumps.
They've turned this country from a cool place to be
into a red-hot mess, needle and syringe lining the streets.
First Lady Reagan was right when she said, " Just say no.
Now they have grass and gas stations in blue-tongued Colorado.
Some want to categorize obesity as a disease.
The cure for this one is simply quite easy
: shut your pie hole and start moving your feet.
There's way too much profit in treating "disease"
That's why cures occur so very rarely.
Once a person is cured, the money pig thins
it dies in the stye with the profit-margin men.
Anarchy
“Anarchy.” Wondered, Master Satan.
Yes anarchy. Because of the moral.
“The moral. What moral?” What??
The only true and original. From God.
“From God.” Do you think that's right?”
Yes. That is right. The Right. Only one.
“Only one? From the One. Only One?”
But degenerated science blocks his.
“His eternal work and life. The creation.”
Yes. I mean it. Medicine is the anarchy.
“Anarchy. Stateless society. Medicine?”
I mean, block the mental poison. All of.
“Good idea.” Civil desiboidence. Hmm.”
Yes. People say no. No mental crime.
“Anymore. Basically paid by governments.”
The mental crime. Yes. Man-made crime.
They are legalized mental criminals. All.
“Psychology. Psychologists. You don’t like.”
Destroyed my life. My life goals. My desires.
“But the state is re-creating them. Again.”
This is the key. Your sentence. Opposite.
“What opposite? Do you mean state-God?”
Yes, and re-creating is deleting all of them.
“Oh, I understand. The order of God is life.”
Yes. Sure. The perfect order. Without rulers.
“Without psychologists, you mean it first.”
Yes. They are soldiers of this world. Paid.
“You mean the mental control. And power.”
Yes. The perfect world is perfect tranquility.
And there is no state, state power. Never.
“Then?” What is there? Humanity, no kings?”
A society without a state. Without human rulers.
The perfect anarchy. Pure life. The Paradise.
Yes. Life there is independent of human laws.
“Yes. But you aren’t talking about human rights.”
Yes. There is no crime. No need for human rights.
“What is there? What? You can’t live without rights.”
Human rights protect you in the human world. “Yes.”
There is no need to be afraid anymore. — The world of God.
Yes. Anarchists seeking a stateless world, a life.
It exists. Always. This is the Paradise. There is no state there.
“So, the anarchy is looking for God,
But the anarchists can not find Paradise.”
Yes, this is my opinion,
My dear Master Satan.
“Hmm.”
Yes.
The society without a state
The stateless society
Is the Paradise of God
Loveful
Peaceful
Greatful
Principle
Of Anarchy
My Morning Rant
By Miracle Man
1-7-2020
Seems weekly I awake to a new paradigm,
we’re legalizing “weed” so it’s no longer a crime.
Radical change came so quickly, I’m left agast,
and morality, it seems, is lost somewhere in the past.
But its a gateway drug that leads to another,
now in second hand smoke the innocent must smother.
We’ve legalized this for the additional tax dollars,
always under the pretense, of helping young scholars.
Or to help homeless people get back on their feet,
but for many, this drug, was their path to the street.
Accepting to exist, rather than live life enjoyable,
too many have resolved to live life unemployable.
Modern day thinking has bid the golden rule adieu,
it’s now do it unto them before they do it unto you.