Long Lifebody Poems

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


Who To Bell Who To Leave

In the first instance under the engine chassis,
Battling complex automobile designs in heat,
Struggles to displays sleek lines in tops delight,
Prayers from bystanders so the car never restarts.

Pay this one for pedestrians joy could serve for long:

Tune this second choice hear suspect toolbox voices, 
Jack up the workshop bills while he calls you taxi's,
Nurse your headache as he lightens your bank balance,
Plays with the new car creating coughing modules;

He purrs to your call while the cabs enjoy the runs:

The third internet savvy links his performance,
Climaxes your F I formula breed on first date,
Smiles to trigger shivers down your crumbling spine,
Steps to touch land shying away from the moon shuttle flight.

Aspirant with NASA's body reduction fear:

Hungry fellow the fourth on a three wheeler drill,
Floating long white beard to check directional winds,
Deceiving looks to go straight he watches the right,
A four wheeler to bang around he would learn soon.

Reduced pay if you carry extra big burger's:   

Forget the last four I am your best bet with gas,
Even bull carts envy my safe slender fast race,
Hundred miles a gallon 24 miles an hour to pace,
What if I need much tea sips to stay awake.

Veteran of Second World War generation:

The sixth battle weary survivor on the home front,
Can take on drivers in the front or rear attacks,
It is the body heat that makes me real mad,
Good Air conditioning is a must so beware.

Suspended drivers license fellows don't understand:

Last but not the least I am certainly not blind,
At night I don't drive have a wife to satisfy,
She worries about my blind date and kiss of fate,
As it is the bright ones do really scare me.

In the day you could watch the wet roads while I drive:

Throw a dice to bell the selected chauffeur real tight;
Updating your insurance cover would be right.
© Jai Garg  Create an image from this poem.
car


Premium Member The Spirital Womb

The tragedy of a Miracle started today
Our Lord’s brutalized body passed away 

Of all the tragedies in the history of man
This is one I try to grasp, but never can

For some reason I find it impossible to see
We crucified the greatest man in our history

Through all of the gain and all of the loss
It was a predestined coin man had to toss

I wonder how Pilot must have felt that day
He washed cowards hands in a cowardly way

Beaten and tortured, his skin ripped to shreds
As a thorny crown dug holes into Jesus’ head

While nailed to the cross he had one final goal
Through the mercy of love he saved another soul

He saved that soul and then our Lord Jesus died
Can you imagine the countless tears that were cried?

As we all know Jesus' body was placed into a tomb
To my minds eye it was no less than a spiritual womb 

And from inside that womb salvation was born
For the tomb was found empty come Sunday morn

This is not how the story ends it is only how it starts
The Lord now lives up inside each one of our hearts

Even those lost in Prison, the ones like I used to be
Can turn to the Lord and then they will be set free

Freedom is a thing that I think we all strive to find
It is etched in our heart and engraved in our mind

I was locked up in a cell nestled tightly away
Facing several years that I would have to pay

Up inside of that cell I made my own decree
A true miracle was taking place inside of me

I was a very evil man and I was so proud to show it
In the wink of an eye I was transformed into a Poet

I learned there is only one way to truly be free
Ask of the Lord, “ Jesus please come unto me”

And just as the Lord Jesus Christ rose up out of his tomb
We can all live with-in the comfort of his spiritual womb
Form: Couplet

Of Dog and Chipmunk

the fluffy combo of yellow lab &
something else that 
you just can’t put your finger on
(let’s say 80% of the prior & 20% of the latter)---
he sits at the sliding-glass door,
poised to pounce---
ironically in that same fashion which his 
sworn adversary might
when confronted with a 
mouse.

outside the door,
on the other side of the clear pane,
sits the
chipmunk.

it scurries along the wooden floor of the deck
with its brown & black stripes---
it pauses to smirk at the dog,
who now, closer than ever to the glass,
loses his sense of control.

the dog forgets the last time that he went diving into the 
glass when trying to catch this 
chipmunk
(whose only purpose in life seems to be the torment of this dog),
with his body shaking in anticipation & at a 
loss 
when it comes to any sense of restraint.

so with his hind legs
he propels himself towards the chipmunk
(who now, on his own hind legs, sits & watches on the other side of the
glass door, nibbling on a nut),
& sure enough,
quicker than you can say
“nincompoop,”
he hits his head on the door---
his neck retracts with the blow,
and his body drops straight to the floor---
he lays there shaking some sense into his own head,
pissed off at the chipmunk,
who by this time has finished his nut,
grown bored with the dog’s antics,
and has made his way back into the forest---
only to return tomorrow,
again,
to wreak havoc upon the dog’s
psyche,
spicing up its own 
otherwise
boring
day
of trying to stay alive in the 
wild.

Premium Member Sixty Years Ago

I remember as if it were yesterday
But really it was nigh onto sixty years
Not his face or height or body build somehow
I remember his attitude__character

For his character was one of adventure
One not held to any standard but one of
Freedom of spirit and body and soul __mind
His body showed evidence of this tough 'tude

Over his left eye he wore a strange black patch
Even though he had in his possession a glass eye
He could donn if he wanted to impress__ ladies
In his damaged hand he carried the wood cane

Well first let me tell you about the injured eye
At one time in his life a nail flew backwards
Landed right in that left eye...worked odd jobs 
This character that I remember so well

Then that damaged hand was drawn nearly closed
Another one of those odd jobs__saw milling
Cut that hand nearly into on that huge saw 
Back then there wasn't much a doctor could do

Now the reason for the wooden cane carried
Got drunk one night and crashed his Model T car
Gas spilled everywhere even onto his pants
And he needed to roll his Prince Albert__match

Here was this man  unbroken __ a character
I remember this until now___ sixty years 
Have passed and it is as plain as day to me
He never changed never saw the need__ just died

Oh! I did not tell the rest of the story
I guess that I will have to save that__later
I have responsibilities I have keep
On another day I will tell the last__tale

Dependence

I miss you my little friends, 
 when will I see you again?
Sometimes I wish you were here, 
 other times I hope you never reappear.

Long pink pill,  I take it so that I feel no pain.
 Small blue pill that takes away anxiety, and I feel like I'm walking in the rain.
Round white pill that relaxes my muscles with ease.
 You guys make every day seem like a cool summer breeze.

Until one day, no more Doctor and you're in a haze.
 Your stomach hurts, in pain, and haven't slept for days.
Tired, cranky, throwing up and you feel like you can't take it anymore.
 Hurting so intense, you think you're at Death's door.

When, oh when will I get insurance so a Doctor I can see?
 I'm sick, and fatigued so bad, I don't feel like me.
I have never been addicted to anything, ever at all.
 Seems like my body needs these though, so the clinic I will call.

Addiction and Dependence seem so close to the same thing.
 A thin line between the two, so understanding is the lesson it brings.
I wish my body didn't depend on these strong pills, 
 but they do, so for now I'll have to cross these long, hard, bumpy hills.


Walking Alone

The earth so quiet and still

The wind so gentle and calm

My life ran on chances like the spin of a wheel

The drop of a tear on my palm

But tonight I walk alone

 

No one to console a breaking heart

A push and a shove and now we’re far apart

Broken and full of disbelief

A body so run down on grief, so be brief

Because tonight I know I walk alone

 

A body so crumbled

A mind so humbled

A smile that tell lies

Apologetic words are mumbled

Sorry for what? I have no clue

That monster so angry with all its crew

But guess what, im not sorry for me im sorry for you

Tonight of all nights I rather not walk alone

 

The sky so dark with not a star in sight

Walking…better yet running through the night

Screaming at the top of my lungs of agitation

Annoyed and ready to fight out of frustration

No one around to take the blow

It’s giving me the space to heal and grow

Tonight is the night I learn why I walk alone

by: Taneia J. Nelson

My Mortal Friend and I.

Crushingly brutal, this wasting disease,
That it eats through me with increasing ease.
Oh, in the painful rigidity of lack luster limbs,
My mortal friend still fights, still clings,
As world passes by on the summer breeze.

Who would have thought I would suffer this young,
With a mortality so terse and highly strung.
Inside of a sickness, with it's wide open jaws,
I am gripped so tightly by it's hungry claws. 
Yet I don't know how all this has begun.

Here I am fighting, again and again,
Just for the chance to feel alive once again.
Each moment of weakness, of faintness and ill,
I long for my mortal to bend to my will.
As I ask for my body to burden the strain.

So what it comes down to, my mortal and I,
My body is broken, yet no one knows why.
So, I cling to this life and it rejects my requests.
I suppose I am my mortal as mortality suggests.
But, surely I can fight. Surely I can try.
Form: Rhyme

The Angel

Time turns into dust
     As I sit here, my hands in cuffs
        Days turn into chains
               As I lay hidden, full of pain
                     Months come and go
                          As I’m forced to lay low


 My body feels dead
     As I desperately search for a bed
        Endless threats silence my ears
             As I struggle to cast out all my fears
                 My mind has crossed to the Darkness inside
                      Knowing that my survival has been denied



I can not escape my wall of loneliness
      For part of me has left God and His Holiness
         My body is weak, my throat dry
             If I had tears, I would’ve cried



I’m giving up, I can not go on
      But then something new occurs at Dawn
           An Angel appears at my side
              With a happy ending to help build my Pride
Form:

Into the Great Unknown

Into the great unknown go I,
Where new adventures hide.
Bound no more to these earthy ties,
My body cast aside.

And I shall be alone no more,
My mortal prison shed.
As death descends, life is restored,
To those who once were dead.

Yet I will cry a tear for thee,
As thou dost vainly strive,
To cling to thy mortality,
Though thou art not alive.

For flesh is but a crumbling cage,
It blinds thee to the truth.
The over cautiousness of age,
The vanity of youth.

Perception bends to their command,
A solitary view,
A multitude around thee stands,
Yet there is only you.

But I, my friend, at last am free,
To look through other eyes.
For one can never truly see
Until the body dies.

So do not weep for me this day,
It's not a time to mourn.
For as my body slips away,
My spirit is reborn...
Form: Rhyme

Body and Soul

I saw a man,....
with half a Soul, 
half dead,
half alive,
half wanting,
the other half consuming
the drugs of pain,
yet resistance, avoids him,..
engorging.......
the Soul,  the plug of life.
The epitome of existence,
was being destroyed by,..
annoyance of life.
Desecration of the D.N.A. system!
Abuse of the vessel
that proves his existence.
His body,
Without your body,
what does the Soul 
plug into?
where does the Soul go?
once the body has 
been desecrated,
and left Soul less, 
how does it communicate
without the body?
how can the body 
communicate ................
without the Soul?
It took time to desecrate
the Soul and make it half.
it will take time to
awake the Soul, to it's 
original state.
Your Soul in your hands,
your Body it's Temple.

© Glen Harris March 2011

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