Long Lifers Poems
Long Lifers Poems. Below are the most popular long Lifers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lifers poems by poem length and keyword.
Democratic Senator Kirsten Gillibrand
Surely the most pious, learned Christian in all the land
Came out today with a most scholarly shocker
For which I find it hard to do aught but mock her
She told several fawning reporters** that restricting abortion
Is against the Christian faith, at least its most important portion
She explained that Christians are given free will, and then this:
That a democracy separating church and state is sadly remiss
If it intends to impose anti-abortion 'faith' against its citizens' wills
Thus labeling pro-lifers a denominational religion, as do political shills
So, whatever your stance on abortion may be, from pro-it to the death penalty
Perhaps on this we can all agree: Ms. Gillibrand's logic is pure quackery.
**CBS and Reuters
Not sure how fond I am of this write very different style to my usual genre. #experimenting
Well look whos back again
My old compardra
My closest companion chronic pain
What a lovely way to see in the new year
And spend new year's Day
Alone rolling around the bed
Unfortunately in agony
How romantic I bet it said
Maybe it is all in my head
My imagination running wild
Shame it's come up with something I dread
Why can't it just leave me alone
Is it intent on constantly reappearing
Till it's isolated me from everything
and everyone one I've known
Maybe I don't want to be alone
Maybe I don't want to be stuck in my head
Listening to all the negative things it's said
I just want to be free,
free of the pain and misery
It teased me for a time
I thought it had said it's goodbyes
But like a predator
It just allowed me enough time to recover
So It wouldn't all be ended and my casket buried
Before it pounced like a panther
And it sunk it's teeth in
right next to my gugular
Its not finished with me yet
like it would grant me a quick painless death
Why won't it just leave me be
or do the kind thing and put me out of my misery
Surely I've done my time served my servitude
Paid my pennants for whatever crime
Will it not be satisfied till it spills my blood
Or has me hung drawn and quartered
In one last final act of vengance
To inflict the ultimate pain on my broken body
Must I scream like William Wallace for freedom
Will it then relent and show me mercy
I think not, I think it thrives on my cries
Like a psychopath It smiles at my demise
I bet it loves to just sit and watch
Yes it's back again
But this time I don't think it sees the need for a reprieve,
this time it's never leaving it's not stopping
Because it has no plans on ever getting going or being gone.
Obviously I've got a lifers debt left owing,
it would no doubt say sing.
Could conditions terribly sad
Lead captives to do something bad
When a sheriff not cool
Won’t let compassion rule
Do lifers in prison go mad?
Did structure that forms Gaza’s pen
Encourage the Hamas gunmen
And with vengeance hot
Will Israel’s king-sized swat
Hurt civilians at risk again?
Do dollars the contractors reap
For the deadly weapons not cheap
Make reprisals cease
Or bring lasting peace
After Gaza ends in a heap?
Author's note: If a civilian dies as a result of a bomb dropped from a plane or one dies after being shot by a deranged soldier, is the outcome any different? While a huge opportunity exists for talking right now, will politicians just scramble to satisfy constituent anger? During an interview, the Israeli father of a kidnapped daughter pleaded for dialogue rather than more violence. Is empathy for this father and daughter possible?
"The World is smaller because the people are closer," ... by the Poet.
There's something singular needs to be said,
mind the conduct or stature -- latter's best,
the subject at hand is of size; nay zed,
a bit of getting used to it, instead,
back to size, and the matter is: smallest.
I am a grain of sand; a granule.
mere speck for wind; Songwriters number ONE,
teeny, weeny, bikini -- minuscule.
We're a-cursed, placed here to be ridiculed,
and later, decoratives for Won Tons.
Yes, I see the beach and I see myself ...
as the beach, and not disjoined from the beach.
I must be set asunder, as oneself,
divided, must be by species: itself.
One; a power number -- practice: what's preached.
So I am that I am, a grain of sand,
having made my worth this, Real Estate Earth,
pound for pound dug graveled ground, sand bound hand,
and then performed righteous change aspired land
for purposed goal nears, a wealth of souls worth.
Bidst's for king and country; Hip, Hip, Hooray,
No venture, no gain; go and drop your name,
We'll care for the shop, while you go and play.
With rolled-up sleeves looking busy all day.
Countered balance tilting pressure life's game.
Preceding parody and paradox
purposed reasoned goals: harsh realities.
Lifers; stalking the clocks like flocks of hawks.
Bobby socks donning Ft Knox nighttime rocks.
One good turn earns another: Guarantees.
(Tomorrow?)
Epilogue:
.
Treble naught your psalms furlong ...
Who grows the dare
and distant flare
who knows the role
of clouds in the air
There is a whole world out there
They cannot see it
They pass right by it
They pass right through it
They who possess the power of sight ...
... sight also possesses
... a grain of sand
Who Is Your Neighbor?
Forty-seven years we are in this our home of dreams;
youngsters flew the nest to chase their very own sun beams.
We are the oldest on our street among mid-lifers here;
no children's voices, kids on bikes, school buses do we hear.
Two years ago a family moved in across the street –
a New York City fireman, his wife and son so sweet.
Our spry young neighbors brought new life; we feel special joy
to interact with them and watch them teach their little boy.
My hubby, retired fire chief, can share so much with the them.
Young neighbors brought the gift of youth to make us smile again.
Sandra M. Haight
~NA~
Contest: Who Is Your Neighbor?
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 09/14/2015
.
Fantasizing past glories
yet slim, she slipped into
a ‘come-and-get-it’ leopard-skin
her own flesh even crawled in it
Attracting a buzzing --
testosterone-overdosed mid-lifers
a few 'good ole boys’--
she slipped back into her
fraying house robe
dousing her passional make-up
in a wooden bucket of cold water
deprogramming her six-inch spikes
~ Cindy’s suitors formed a search party
The ALGORITHM had its day
Causing mass confusion, disgust with foul play
The day a waste of time unless generously used
As an activist for social change much more amused
The algorithm has its weekly picks
Causing alarm to its own members politics
Pausing are moments of awareness of harm
Losing its confidence and poetry charm
Enabling cruelty upon its own community
Does not readily afford cavalier immunity
The buzzing annoyance is seen only weekly when
For a poem’s brilliance earning them an honor chosen
Not sympatico to spare any feelings
On the contrary these are dirty dealings
Unshared is what has been tossed in the soup
Manipulation meant for unsuspecting, driven by a coup
A group of troublesome lifers who cawk and complain
Hurtful and shameless with nothing more to give or gain
It’s they who buzz around the clock in the broth bowl
Denial of words mirrored and who love-on as the troll
It’s what keeps them afloat and this for not long
Theirs's a sinking ship—prolonged
Let not the poet’s freedom of speech this be of
‘What’ the poetry site is willing to preach hereof
Not a good look
A possible hook?
Keep the sagas flowing
Fueling of hatred showing
Bringing to the spotlight what he/she dictates
Hiding ‘hind algorithms inhabited by humanoid hate
A poetry site's admin throws itself into the mix
Whether it be a lesson Or just for kicks
It shows mistrust, question, and doubt
Really this what it be, about
By its accidental-exacting choice
This reality is the true voice
Spare a minute
to know about
those perky creatures
and their special features
Lifers, twitcher, tertial and lores
are nothing but the birding terms
Introduce, birding to the children,
As that would make kids pen
Their mesmerizing melodious calls
and the raising tunes wake up all
from those regular humdrum
and make us embrace the bliss
They are the angels from heaven
who have the power to turn
even the empty plots into garden
and the frozen winter into spring
They are the one who begin
the jingles in the dawn
and the one who end
the day by doing murmuration at dusk
They make us feel high,
For, they are buoyant souls that fly
which transfer their energy and power
to the one who watches them for hours
So why waiting? Look out
Spare a minute...
Want to know more?
Pls do see my youtube channel
" one minute birding"...
Here is the link to my channel...
https://youtube.com/channel/UCLXFhWUfAmil_vqPAeOa-2w
Trump is Almost Gone
By Franklin Price
01/07/2020
Trump is almost gone
Just thirteen days away
The Swamp controls the government
Will make We the People pay
Four long years they've fought him
Even when he had done right
I pray to God to help us
Not let us go into the night
Yesterday he was most foolish
Encouraged quite a motley crew
To go up to the capital
What a foolish thing to do
The assumption all were Trumpers
May not or may be true
Some likely trouble makers
With nothing else to do
Could have been some city burners
Who led to break the windows out
If you look at the majority
Most of the crowd, just milled about
No matter, Trump was most at fault
Was there and led the way
Told the mob to go up to the hill
Though there was nothing left to say
Media, compares it to Pearl Harbor
Caused, by Trump, the foolish clown
Was not as if they helped to cause it
For four long years they've put him down
He tried every way to help them
To tweet and call his haters names
Not often presidential
Not how lifers play the games
When everything is said and done
Whether legally or not
Joe Biden our new president
Voted in to stir the pot
I have written the following to voice my opinion of what the United States of America is supposed to be, where it is now, and where it is going, if We the People, through the power of the vote, that the Constitution gives us, don't put people in office who will work to get us back to the plan our founding fathers set.
If you find, you believe the same, please make the thought go virile by sharing.
WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!!
Freedom
By Franklin Price
10/16/2021
I'm sure that you have heard before
That freedom isn't free
It isn't automatic
For all of us to be
The founders of the U.S.A.
To establish freedom's choice
Wrote the Constitution
Gave each citizen a voice
Formed a more perfect Union
To represent all States as one
To defend us from outsiders
That may put us to the gun
To establish common justice
Promote the welfare of us all
Establish liberty forever
Until we cause ourselves to fall
We the people, the electorate,
Choose the ones to represent
We're responsible to put them there
And how much time is spent
When we vote them there forever
Which was never meant to be
They lose sight of why they're there
And of the voters, you and me.
They think we are know nothings
And our voting should be banned
They see themselves as royalty
We're are the serfs within their land
They take away our freedom
Because we've rubber stamped our votes
We vote for whom we recognize
And re-elect our Judas goats
They're leading us to slaughter
After shearing off our wool
Cannot believe a word they say
All that comes from them is bull
Lifers now in Washington
Are closing freedom's door
We must rid ourselves of them
Or our freedom is no more
The new ones are not better
Want to take away our guns
Want to socialize our freedom
Giving all to everyone
That's not how our founders saw us
In those days they were alive
They provided us a country
Where everyone could thrive
All of us aren't millionaires
Only guaranteed the chance
Hard work and dedication
Puts the money in your pants
We must vote for the country
That our founders made that day
If we keep going on like this
All our freedom goes away