Long Liable Poems

Long Liable Poems. Below are the most popular long Liable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Liable poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Letter To Santa From Looby Loo

Dear Santa,
As you may well know, 
it's tights and not stockings that are all the go.
So, with no stockings to hang on the bedstead, 
would a pair of my bloomers be OK instead?
I'll sew up the legs so that there is more space, 
can't have my gifts falling all over the place.

I hope you don't mind, as my wine you consume,
please try to be silent when entering my room.
I'm a light sleeper and at my age, which is quite a pain,
if I lose too much sleep, then it addles my brain.
You may kiss me sweetly if I'm in deep slumber
mistletoe on my pillow, plus telephone number.

I promise to leave you a home-made mince pie, 
though the pastry's gone soggy
'cause the onions made me cry.
Myopia means recipes I really struggle to see 
though onion in mince pies' is a new one on me.
But the pies are quite tasty as I'm sure you'll agree
and if you're still hungry, then have two or three!

There's a drop of fine whisky which you may try too,
bought by my late husband circa 1952
'twas in an old bottle I found in the shed
my hubby drank most of it afore dropping dead.

I think you're so special, dear old Santa Claus,
now here's what I would like you to leave in my drawers:.
1. A pretty box - so I may store my false teeth so neat, 
so I can find 'em when I gets me something to eat.

2. A walking frame 'cause I am liable to fall,
and falling, alas, does you no good at all.

3. Some California Poppy, as supplies now seem so short,
if this scent can't be found I will smell like a horse.

4. A pair of big knockers, for front and back door.
A warm cosy nighty, don't need see-throughs no more.

5. Get me a back scratcher, please, if you can, 
I can't scratch that itch since I lost me old man.

6. Also an emergency underwear kit, 
as nowadays there's times when I don't quite make it.

7. If you have a big dog, leave it in the back yard, 
I'll treat quite kindly, if me it will guard.

Thats all the gifts on my Christmas wish list, 
but I'll settle for more Santa, if you insist.
I haven't been naughty for many a year,
when awaking, I expect all my gifts to be here!

Merry Christmas!
Looby Loo x

* * *
Christmas 2020
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Forbearance Vast Spectrum

How do I acquire a place where I can forgive?
How can I stop blaming myself for my mistakes? 
I can't recall the version of "Intrinsic", but it's conflictive,
None can quash them If you can't forgive rattlesnakes.

It's difficult to forgive wrongdoers who won't swage,
It's cruel to excuse inner suffering from a rapist's rage,
It's difficult to grace louts who have killed your family,
Spirits will not retaliate but can whip you clearly.

No, I'm not a saint; failure is not the same as forgiveness.,
That doesn't refer I must trust or favor the chorus,
He seems angel but he throws his seat through the window,
He is tiled with a shabby female tattoo on his elbow.

I felt vulgar, stupid, and useless, 
Close to the leech and slimy worm, that's sageness, 
Every smile contains a malicious chart, so I lack faith, 
I endure on wobbly legs, wiping away tears and scathe.

How can I resist the urge to do things right? 
Some people mind me a skeptic. My kids guess I'm bright, 
In fact, they suppose I'm an incredible winner,
If they view suffering, it will improve my manner.

No one understands what I endure,
I am not in a position to reveal such rancor,
I'm tired of seeing and living a shabby life,
I wanted a widely used headline in some rife.

The tombs of our ancestors are everywhere,
Earth's soil is the body's dust, walk lento, and care,
The suffering of death is greater than the joy of birth,
O cooing doves bestow to the weeping, some mirth. 

Some actions are held liable, but none are shrewd,
Every devout soul has a past, and every deceiver is lewd, 
Who can you forgive if not the toughest opponent? 
You are fully ungrown with this Atonement.

The blast radius of your grief can harm the soul, 
What if the people around you are shown a rays hole? 
What if you cling to someone else's roots to be injured? 
It all begins with a runic visceral fear of the biohazard.

I select my destiny and discover myself,
Say farewell to my harsh youth with purity and pelf,
Today I saw the opposite of what you taught me,
I also forgive you for everything before I flee.

1st Place Contest Win.

Written: June 25, 2022

Forgiveness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Quantitative process of elimination

Anecdote:
For a nuptial effort, I was editing a photograph, my former husband, and his two classmates, as we were proposing for one, not all of them!
Posters are problematic these days, with every hotline too!
Please ignore, once your own tire, is acted up.
It is conveying a symptom, an outlier or an eloquence.
Now give them a brake, as you are not an advertisement, here.


***Quantitative process of elimination (Poe), 
how can you be a parable that you are not a hoopoe within? ****

"You are nagging too much, these days!"
The time, outspoken, looked into the eyes.
I am pieced off with Du'a and Gloria Anzaldu'a
I am Netherlands, perhaps Holland, Hall &, and yet Norway....
Now you popped out from nowhere, half-hearted and negated
(and said),
e will become gradually into E, and all I heard , perhaps,"Thou art a....!"

I foretold this must be an acne issue with hormone, either hyper, or hype-o
Now "Being" a rare loner lump some inside a prayer room, where shall I serve the Type-o?
The Imam simply withered away, yet his glory is not! On a Friday, even though, remembrance about,
But the sister theory is giggling and nagging around, anything,  other than this, without outsider harbinger chariot!
As every should could, perhaps, whence the targeted e is a mere life, not a grandiose Neon God!

These are all "Bay leaf " shape poem, unequivocally true, for the bookmark of your "Al Quran-ul- Kareem" and "hadeeth"
Even though price variation, there is a "housekeeping should" of the reason behind, that you will be liable al through,
Lentil and Moong, Mosul, and other peas, all you will subtly be, a graceful Imam your self
You did not disgrace them, and you did not happen too!

I will urge the time, to declutter own whine, to serve the deepest strength, the other side of your Chromebook screen
Or else, I will be a mere outlier quantitative with crispy onion, for lentil, alfalfa, already piled up algae enigmatic scene
Your work talks there, not your mannerism or coy word, lucrative, adjective or precisely so!
First 'be'! A distilled water bottle in calling for reverie, once rational, for any book, any letter too!

1:38 PM
9-5-2024

Premium Member Immortality

We were miserable and exhausted by the rife. 
We leave the severe planet to fight for itself. 
Be patient, though! We admit in another life. 
Will toss the earth; however, we will not strife.
 
We sway from light to dark alike a fading star.
Our spirits run deep beneath the sea surface.
Our thoughts are a sort of dull fluid at night scar.
Alike a liquid that moves across an unseen furnace.

I yearn my days to be linked to spontaneous worshiping.
The meadow, the grove, and the creek were once one.
Consistently, it appears to me that the earth was spinning.
It looks to be engulfed by a halo of a bright cosmic sun.

A fantasy's brilliance and freshness sensation. 
One who existed earlier doesn't subsist anymore. 
I may coast anyplace I pick, without restriction. 
I can no longer discover the things that I have seen before.

Our being is nothing but slumber and forgetfulness. 
As we rise in the womb, our Souls appear in the skies.
Souls are the key to God's mystery, not forgetfulness,
We do not appear naked but rather with destiny rays.

We are liable for our birth, life, and death grim.
As we are still in our prime, blessing surrounds us! 
The child's growth allows the death shades to creep on to him.
Children will detect the glow so they will be able to spot its basis.
 
We will cease living; however, we won't be alive 
What is the significance of this for us? 
A borrower ought not to be utilized to cultivate contrive. 
It is the result of another person's activities. 

It takes a lot of effort to keep on developing. 
Although nature is eternal, our world is transitory.
As previously said, life is an awful feeling.
Desire not to be afraid around dying; it is destiny.

The immortal soul cannot abide endlessly on the body.
The earthliness of life has a dreadful effect on the soul.
Only immortality could teach the human to die godly.
Humans, as upright beings, require faith in the eternal.



Written: July 17, 2021

''I'' Contest New or Old Poetry Contest
 Sponsored by: Constance La France
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Time Or Death

Time hasn't taken from us what he would not give to it,
time  doesn't take from  us what we  didn't give to him,
Time  doesn't snatch  from our hands what we sincerely protected,
And yet death requires no authority to take  from man what is cherished;
When man has launched war  against his fellow man,
When oblivion has stripped  me off of family.

Oh! take from me what  is precious
but do not rob off of my childhood
For  while  this time may pass me by 
we will catch up -
-with the wonderful memories of our past in future,
Yet if the darkness and  coldness of grave has encompassed me,
How would I remember the days of my innocence?
Cant the wise declare war  against death? 
For  even if time passed,
And we wailed away our  hurt,
When old  age approaches, 
With irretrievable deformity:
That snatches sight from eyes,
Strength from knees to carry me,
Withe  the De-coloring of my hair
When  memory deflects to oblivion
Not  out of choice but incapacity to fight for my life
And the shades of my side surge breath off of my nostrils  
I chose death over time 
That it may be held liable for murder,
For  death has snuggle into the hands of time
To disregard old-age 
And take from man what is of value
Take the wise  and leave the world to obliterate  
Of the young and unwise 
Until the  world goes to ruin
and so like  the hopeless romantics on  screen played episodes
I write that:
"When you see the falling  tears 
Know that today is the day i  am  allowed to cry"
Not out of  strength 
But out of the weakness of my heart 
its OK for me to crush glasses
and burn favorite letters
It's OK  if i  got to  sleep without food
It's  of if remain sunken, sulking till  dawn 
It's OK if i spent sleepless nights wondering  who will care for  me
Because i refuse to blame time that has had  us build so many wonderful memories With  my  loved one
I hold it against death for though he taken so much  
His greed wont grant him satisfaction;
So when u see  the falling tears,
Know  that today its okay  for me to cry!


Change

I see an angry country that is ready to explode,
And if things don’t change it will happen and not much further down the road.
I see a country that is not willing to give up its values and dreams,
A country so tired of lies and politicians and their low handed schemes.

I see a country that has had life good much too long,
I see a country that is angry and that is ready to right so many wrongs.
When I talk to a neighbor or I talk to a friend,
The conversation always comes up about the way things are going and how they have got to end.

There are many who think they are trying to lead us like sheep,
They don’t  want us to think or to make so much as a peep.
We’ve had our T.E.A. parties and we’ve marched in the streets,
But it hasn’t effected those in Washington they march to a different beat.

I think it’s time they get, what the rest of us get,
And no more special privileges will we permit.
If they don’t do the job they were sent there to do,
Then hand them a pink slip, if they don’t  want to be a voice for me and for you.

And one term limits ought to be enough time to get their ideas across,
Any more time than that, they might start growing moss.
And what about honesty and integrity does it have different values for them than it has
for you and me .
I don’t think Washington, Jefferson, or even Lincoln would approve if they were alive to see.

The things that are transpiring in this country, the Land of Sweet Liberty, the Home of
the Free.
Are  ways to manipulate good people like you and me.
This country has had a rash of set backs as of late,
And if  we don’t start paying better attention and voicing our concerns, then we are
liable to wind up with nothing to put on our plate.

I firmly believe that  we as a nation stand up and glorify Gods name above all else
forever more,
So that His almighty grace will spread across our land from shore to shore.
God has not turned His back on us, we were the ones that walked away,
And I pray to the almighty God that He forgives us this very day.
Form:

Premium Member A Christmas Story

Teacher tried to teach his class that Christmas isn’t boring
Half the kids weren’t listening and one or two were snoring
He picked out little Lucy, she seemed the one most liable
He made her prove she’d listened to his lesson from the bible

Her little eyes were glistening, she’d only been half listening
But she had not been sleeping... and so she started speaking...

Two thousand years or so ago, to my recollection 
Some bird called Mary suffered an inaccurate perception
She dreamt that God had had his way and now she eats for two
Her fella whined, no kid of mine is there inside of you

He said we can’t stay around here, we’ll have to travel far
We’ll bugger off to Beth Le hem ’cause she’s a little star
Well if they had a car, I guess it had no gas
For Joseph walked but Mary simply sat there on her a.s.s.

Anyway, they got there and the man who heaps the ink
Said this hotel has got no rooms, so Joe kicked up a stink
The ink heaper said settle down , I’ll do the best I’m able
I think you’ll find the manager, back there in the stable

Mary had contraptions, so her child came out a boy
She put him on the manager, which gave him peace and joy
Someone shouted ‘Who’s the daddy?’ (Quite an indiscretion)
Joseph frowned and looked around, Well, isn’t that the question?

Mary called in Jesus... three white men came instead
One had come with Frankenstein and two were off their head
’cause no-one knows what myrrh is and kids can’t play with gold
I guess I’d better fill you in before you get too old

You see the king of Harrods was killing little boys
I think his parents should perhaps have bought him far more toys 
But Harrods is alive and well, that’s fishy and suspicious
’Cause when you live two thousand years, that’s the mackerel of Christmas 

And when Jesus was older, folk had no food to chew
He fed them with some bread and fish, and that’s a mackerel too
So Lucy said to teacher, in a voice quite firm and scary
And that, Sir, is the story of the season to be Mary
Form: Rhyme

An Old "happy" Couple

Cherish me as I grow old, and am surely liable to forget things. 
 I know how interesting life is and the contentment it brings.
I know you'll make excuses to try and be miserable and even try not to go.
 Now just have a good trip, even though I know your stress will just grow.

White, sandy beaches and salt tasted air, with an ocean so cold.
 Aggravation sets in as we try to put our lawn chairs down to unfold.
Breathe, my love, its as simple as remembering the latch on the side.
 Surely, all you had to do is ask, I'm tired of your old, stubborn pride.

Finally, we get our chairs situated and I'm ready to bask in the sun.
 You ask for sun block and as I search, you assume I brought none.
Its just at the bottom of the beach bag, you stubborn old ass!
 And don't think I don't see you sneaking a sip out of that flask!

I turn bronze as I used SPF 40, you chose SPF 15, and look at you.
 Red as a lobster, mean as crab, and I'm enjoying the view.
I tried to tell you, but so stubborn, do you ever plan to listen?
 Probably not now, nor never, so your skin will always be red and glisten.

How are you supposed to relax now that you can't move not even a limb?
 Our stress free vacation, is as always, starting to look grim.
Oh well, aloe you up, and off to dinner we shall go and have some fun.
 Take some Soma, Lortab, and Xanax and you'll be good and numb.

An hour later and you're stress free, and mostly out of that pain.
 Good thing, because its in the forecast for Florida rain!
We'll hobble around the block and get soaking wet from head to toe.
 Knowing tomorrow you'll be back in pain and stressed so we'll have to go.

But its like this every year, we plan to stay, but I know how you are.
 One or two days of driving makes you stiff from sitting in the car.
It'll take the rest of our vacation for you to blister and finally peel.
 You're the entertainment in my life, and that's why I'm with you still!

Do Not Read Caviat Caution If You Are a Religious Zealot Please Do Not Read This

THAT MOTHER MARY WAS A REAL MOTHER

They teach, they preach, and reach incongrous conclusions for their congregants
and do so with arrogance
because the preacher has a predeliction toward facing Satan toe to toe 
as he gathers all his ducks in a row
the ducks being an awed audience as they sat planted in a pew
listening to the self-righteous preacher and the specious non-specifics he's so apt to spuriously 
and furiously spew
all the little ducks in their father's wake
well if you ask me instead of wafers and wine they should serve cookies and cake
..............for Christ's sake
and pardon me if i'm construed as being rude to tell you this church is now on fire
everything and everyone including the choir
for the pastor lied and Christ's flames shot down upon the structure because there was a 
rotten infrastructure
and once again think not of me as lewd
but didn't anyone notice this church was becoming unglued
because Christ's blood is the bricks and this pastor's un-pastoral lies are the mortar
while the minister is out pimping a long-legged teen-age blonde who's his daughter
so each brick breaks apart in front of four hunded pair of eyes
as thunder thuds down from between Mother Mary's thighs
the choir is afire and being led by an obvious and ominous liar
as a minister makes misery out of a situation he deems dire
while a pastor passes judgement on the asses all with the same damned flaming desire
and if the truth be known the pastor should sit upon that church's flaming spire
or at least have his buttocks invaded by ten inches of the steeple
Since that paltry, pathetic, impious pastor duped a whole lot of garishly gullible people
so I say we take religion with its b******t, babble and Holy Bible
and i say we begin a class action suit for deception, mental distress and we will  hold the 
Vatican liable
         (c) 2011....Phreepoetree (you know, the Vatican has tons of cash)
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member The Specious Criminal Trial

Which fish
The scuba diver
Is going after?
The big one
Or the small one?
Which sheriff
Is on trial today?
The petty one
Or the pretty one?
Everyone must have its day
In the Kangaroo Court.
Real justice is not a myth;
It never creates descent or grief.
It a fact that it is easier to execute
The innocent resident
Than to prosecute
The corrupt superintendent.
All thieves must be handcuffed.
A trial can be long or short,
Depending on the main actor.
It is mind-boggling, it is tough
To understand the demeanor
Of this odious prosecutor.
The mass-murderer is on the loose,
Sipping wine and walking like a moose,
While the unarmed homeless is shot to death,
For littering, for selling meth.
Is this justice? Is that right?
The real pacifists must always fight.
Thank God, the true democrats
Will never stop chasing the bad cats,
The fat mice and the aggressive rats.
The evidence is palpable and the facts
Remain overwhelming.
Which thief
Will be prosecuted?
Which big fish
Will be convicted,
In this Kangaroo Court?
The public despises something short,
However, a simple and fair trial is acceptable.
We are all liable and responsible.
All crooks must be prosecuted fairly,
And justly to the fullest extent of the laws.
Justice must go after the cats with the long paws
First, because it is obviously
Easier to go after the small pimps.
Bring the flashlights and the giant lamps,
So we all can see better, and clearer.
The sun and the moon are on strike today.
Look, the criminals and the guards are at play.
All conscientious citizens are in great danger.
Which fish
The scuba diver
Is going after?
Which thief?
Which sheriff?
Which chief
Is on trial today?
Which one is walking away?
Which one is enjoying a great day?

Copyright © September 13, 2014, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Form: Rhyme

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