Long Lifestyle Poems
Long Lifestyle Poems. Below are the most popular long Lifestyle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lifestyle poems by poem length and keyword.
It's another gloomy
Saturday morning,
all trees drip with warm rain
while in the distance he hears
the whistle of the departing train,
while loneliness
and sadness
keep growing...
remembering his happy
yesterdays of Gigolo;
he loved rock songs
with a fast tempo.
Hey, gigolo with an endless charm,
this risky lifestyle won't ever last,
money is only earned with sweat;
this risky lifestyle will twist your arm.
His bleak moments
spent alone dreaming,
aren't those happy yesterdays of Gigolo;
they were cloudless and shone
with the brightest light from behind the hills
gently swaying;
they brought warmth to his cold window.
Hey, gigolo with an endless charm,
this risky lifestyle won't ever last;
money is only earned with sweat,
this addiction will twist your arm.
Now, the flashbacks bring tons of tears
of the loneliest guy
who can't let go of sensual images;
can they forever linger on mind
on his troubled mind
and comfort him with a silly lie?
Hey, Gigolo with an endless charm,
this risky lifestyle won't ever last;
money is only earned with sweat,
this addiction will twist your arm.
His happy yesterdays
of gigolo were made
of adventure, of danger and infatuation;
he dreamed big and was awarded
a trophy for pleasing lusty women.
Now, he sits alone and grieves
with nothing to be proud of,
he gave up on divine love
to seek earthly pleasures.
Hey, gigolo with an endless charm:
this risky lifestyle won't ever last;
money is only earned with sweat;
this addiction will twist your arm.
God my Creator, Lord of life,
who formed from dust my frame,
lest I succumb to sin and strife
help me Christ’s life to claim.
Refrain
Lest I forget Christ died for me
Lest I forget His agony.
Lest I forget Thy love for me.
Lead me to Calvary.
God my Creator, and my Guide
Come, and my shepherd be.
As Spirit in my heart abide,
make me like unto Thee.
Let me like David, stained by sin
confess my sins to Thee.
Wash clean, my sins, purge deep within,
Ransom and set me free.
Teach me to number my short days,
A heart of wisdom give;
Lord may my lifestyle bring you praise
as long as I shall live.
The Man in the Mirror
Don’t you live at your mother’s place?
Are you in the basement or the room upstairs?
Are you still taking a year off from school?
How is that going for you?
How many is that now?
When your mother stops doing your laundry,
will you start to stink?
When she stops making dinner and feeding you?
Will you then be skinny again, as you need to check the mirror?
We were friends. We still are. You need to remember that.
That means I am here to tell you the truth.
I have no reason at all to lie. I have no agenda.
You are on a bad path. That is clearly evident by your lifestyle.
If you are okay with that, fine. Not much more to say.
If you are not…
I am here.
Not to coddle you, but to make you tow the line.
I will not be kind in the manner of which I choose to end your days…
As a bozo clown.
Grab a pad. A pen. Find one! Now!
The key here is a reference point. I am going to give you that.
From there… you will be in free fall until you fly.
Or…
Die.
At the top… write, “pray”.
Now we begin.
Lord,
I need not prove my worth to man,
By driving a brand new car.
For the one that thou hast given,
Still takes me near and far.
Lord,
I have no need for a newer house,
To satisfy ego or my pride.
For the one that thou provided,
Can be warm or cool inside.
Lord,
For larger closets I have no need,
In which new clothes to store.
For what you've give still suffice,
And I've your promise of more.
Lord,
I need not do one single thing,
Proving to others that I can,
It's important only that they see,
Your love in me for my fellow man.
Lord,
A frugal lifestyle teach me to live,
In all that you would have me be,
Being content wherein I'm blessed,
Giving praise and thanks unto thee.
Lord,
May I not seek the praises of men,
Nor be found doing for show.
But be at peace within my heart,
Being enough Lord, that You know.
I was a boy and not a man,
living at home with mum and dad,
I liked the freedom didn’t plan,
was more about the one night stand,
I didn’t know what the long term plan was, everyone I worked with had already began
Looking after their money I rinsed my bank
Independence learning I’m like no thanks
I take my washing home
I’m there for sleeping
I get up and I go
socialise work eating
Staying out too late off to work too early
But I always went in it socially worth it,
My shift ends go drinking, no thinking
later on get weed, the weed be stinking
Drinking pulling working smoking sleeping
was all I needed, and all I was seeking
Life was good, life was easy, never better,
It could have been that pleasing forever
But I learned nothing new,
a teenager in his twenties,
And when it all fell through,
my life itself left emptied
I withdrew from the fight in isolation
Drank and smoked a hermit sleeping
I couldn’t understand the hate received
I wouldn’t demand anything that I need
I’m still a boy who lost his way,
With a mindset out to gain,
I found light on the darkest day,
Grinding out a beautiful pain
Time Io find and meet the man in me,
took my sweet time but designed to be
slow, last, when I fight I’m a sight to see,
surviving the odds, fired up for a life I lead
I will be what I set out to be,
without a doubt watch out for me,
I believe I suffered so desperately,
Tough enough to fulfil my destiny
The lifestyle for the best I can do
I know how the world works,
I know how the people work too,
Now I live it not writing words
Right here, right now, every day of my life,
I return to nothing at all,
Back to the place of four walls and a chair,
Back to a lifestyle default,
Where I can hear the voice whisper to me,
Close my eyes and see the voice dance,
Where I know the one true love of my life,
Is my solitary four twenty plant,
You see, way down inside in the deeper than deep,
It’s the place where I feel the most,
It’s the way I can live after the day has occurred,
Where I snuggle belief, trust and hope,
I’m alone with nothing on detention again,
Detention with my very best friend,
Where I will discuss and talk about life,
With this love living up in my head.
I used to care about my looks
Never bothered reading books
I used to chase that money tree
Surely then I could be free
I cared too much what people thought
About the many things I bought
I cared too much that I had to be right
Never bothering to be polite
I chased the notion of importance
Whereby I could make a stance
I chased acceptance from richer fools
Thinking it might make me cool
But now I’m older and with a wry smile
I contemplate that flawed lifestyle
Now I’m older it’s crystal clear
We are promised nothing each year
I crave the simple pleasures life serves
There are no special privileges I deserve
I crave nature and all it beholds
I take my time awaiting how life unfolds
The simple things surely matter the most
Those trappings I shall no longer boast
When we are no longer here what shall we miss?
It will be nature, family, friends and a loving kiss.
My life
If you love me set me free
Set me free from your judgment
Set me free from your illusion
Set me free from gossip
Set me free from crucification
Set me free from hatred
Set me free from attack
Set me free from captivity
Yes set me free let me be free
From your fingers pointing
Set me free from intimidation
Cos truly in this world
I got nothing to lose
I got nothing to lose
But I have a life to live
My life
My life
I have a life to live
So as you and everyone
So let’s make it interesting
I just want to live yes just to live
Hoping to enjoy a planet made for my kind
I intend never to offend no soul
But I can’t be perfect in an imperfect system
Were we mostly chase what can be lost at any given moment
Most of our lifestyle are programmed
Designed and controlled
Am not an exception of a victim
in this said life cycle
So pardon my imperfections where you feel your opinion is
suppose to be the story of
My life
Where Will They Find You Contest
Sponsor: Marugu MO
Shadows of clattering glass fallen deep below the surface,
schrieks of yesterday's magnets longing for redemption,
caves of internal shards of regret, I can't handle the curses,
the black crow cries out that it was never his intention.
Underneath I hide...writing books upon books of verses,
I crawl and dig for someone up there to pay attention,
falling further into the cave, I'm filthy and skirmish,
I should've seen the days ahead full of vile tension.
Left forsaken and forlorn there's no way to resurface,
why I stay and live down here I have no comprehension,
fire from my eyes, smoke from my internal furnace,
my contaminated dungeon with six by six dimension.
I can't imagine a life without frightening disturbance,
my dwelling exists in a location beneath life's ascension,
search all you want but we won't find a steady concurrence,
I've learned my harsh lifestyle promotes instant retention.
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB-ABAB-ABAB-ABAB
Date Written: March 18, 2016
ENOUGH!
I felt deaf from the ‘noise’ of information,
constantly butting, buzzing against my mantra of:
“The quieter you are… the more you… hear!”
At present, my lifestyle felt media manipulated:
tv, radio, newspaper, mobile, computer.. ad infinitum!
Besieged by endless emails, monopolizing mobiles,
beset by frenzied yaps from apps!
Enough is enough is….. ENOUGH,
I have to escape from the unrelenting hullabaloo.
Can the human brain endure so much information
and who am I, an individual thinker or group dancer?
However, relief sat just around the corner
as next morning I boarded the flight to Reykjavik.
A three-hour taxi journey with a taciturn islander,
people and communication diminishing by the mile
until finally a twig of a boat out to Ellidaey Island.
Boating and bobbing towards the uninhabited …hideaway,
an isolated jigsaw piece of land
off the southern coast of Iceland,
I appraise a small-boned building clinging to its side
with ‘RIDICULOUS’ scribbled all over it.
Someone had said Iceland was a niceland
where you could float free, peace and tranquillity!
But someone hadn’t warned me about…Mr Loneliness
Who was soon tapping me sharply on the shoulder.
So here I sit, three days into my week’s stay
in the island’s lodge, dubbed the world’s loneliest house,
where the only neighbours are passing ships and puffing puffins.
No internet, no tv, no electricity, no running nor strolling.. water
just remote, alone and contemplating my countenance
while wondering if God is lonely too!
Suddenly, clouds bump and bruise against each other
as they race away before the darkness snarls in.
Soon, night has sent in its stormtroopers
who land and splinter into shadow groups
while wind angrily sprints up to the house
bombing it with blockbuster punches.
Then rain happily joins in, machine-gunning the house
until the building begins to stagger and stumble.
I check my face and it is still in the same place
but I sit timorously trembling, tyrannised and terrified
while my eyes follow the house’s dimly lit path
as it wags its tail to the cliff’s edge
and jumps into the void of darkness.
But this poem is a broken wrist, with a twist,
as suddenly, my bones brittle and inside myself…..I faint!
What possibly could happen now?
But there it is..
the knock at the front door!
Ian Souter