Long Modeled Poems
Long Modeled Poems. Below are the most popular long Modeled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Modeled poems by poem length and keyword.
Usage of zprox
On coordinate graph
With axis angles
Zprox line
Zero proximity to poverty creation
Planning and adjusting equations in assets of involvement
Generational property line mathematics
As one economy degenerates
One deviation and rise over run is created
This social work is master data modeled in hmis
Poverty is never a real life
Only a word of criminal intent
A hate crime of elect able routine value.
Depreciation of rights by raising wrong
The accounts, DMV, budget etc associated with these votes and non votes by educating and involving forms a popular population which chooses no laws?
Homeless crisis byproduct of neglect of law by neglect of legislation created real estate fraud.
Homekey fraud is generational.
Removing postage is new news to the statement of state from localized control capital of states name.
Zip code cannot act
Zip code is a number
Why zip code was altered during fraud.
Contort objective reception of speech in forms of documentation.
documentation.
#realdonaldtrump #cagovernor #asmirwin #repbrownley #mikeytaylor #berniesanders #aoc #nytimes #latimes #tonybiasotti
Manipulation of legislation in legislature
Assembly bill creation origin of hmis also origins in Irwin's assembly
I live in a range of geography with zip codes
Homeless is fraudulent naming of finance
finance
#washingtonpost #theatlantic #cagovernor #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #repbrownley #bbcnews #dailymirror #declanwalsh #nytimes
#washingtonpost #theatlantic #cagovernor #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #repbrownley #bbcnews #dailymirror #declanwalsh #nytimes
Free forms in movement
Dept of transit
Overhauled movement of poor life during isolation
Isolation instructions still in assembled bills as job requirements
Obstructions are final. Finite mathematics stills speech and range of motion
Counter intuitive approach to data modeled in hmis privacy act census
I'm a normal function inside of integral limit with derivative market extortion
On vista bus from Ventura government building towards thousand oaks the absence of New York life is laws
If = x
If I cannot
X can
Poor man's publishing Company
#cagovernor #realdonaldtrump #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #repbrownley #tonybiasotti #aoc #nypd #lapdhq #nytimes
Well, howdy do! Your day is here!
It’s time to start your new career.
You have hopes in your heart
And a mountain of debt.
Where the heck you’ll end up,
You can’t know – not quite yet.
You’ll search Facebook and Google
And LinkedIn and more,
And still, you won’t get your foot
Into a door.
But wait! Don’t give up!
There are worlds out there waiting.
Apply for a passport and stop hesitating.
Forget about jobs – you can always get work
In places where bosses and coffee breaks lurk.
Just focus on NOW! for you don’t need a clue
To grab onto all that is waiting for you.
So whether you’re outgoing, anxious or shy,
Dive into the moment – get out there and fly!
(modeled after Oh, The Places You’ll Go!)
I thought it was bad enough
when you took your people’s guns,
leaving them unable to defend
themselves or anyone,
making them incapable of
resisting evil’s sway,
leaving them adrift and helpless,
it is the tyrant’s way.
But now I see it’s even worse,
you suppress their free speech,
worried about words ‘hateful,’
so you turn to tyranny?
Wont even let folks in Britain
with right-of-center words,
tet Islamists have the run of it,
even with speech that burns.
Maybe you should sink, Britannia,
just sink beneath the waves,
’cause at the rate you’re going,
you’ll soon enough be slaves.
At Rotherham and Telford,
and a half-dozen more,
you turned your backs on monsters
treating daughters like whores,
ignored their degradation,
wouldn’t even take the case
more concerned with the word ‘racist,’
then women being raped??!!
You lock up folks for online
jokes done with a dog,
but genital mutilation
goes on in London’s fog.
Is this the same nation
that had ‘Rights of Englishmen,’
that ancient love of liberty
you spread to all your kin?
Perhaps you should sink, Britannia,
just sink beneath the waves,
’cause at the rate you’re going,
you’ll soon enough be slaves.
The nation of Shakespeare, Dickens;
they showed us how it’s done.
Chaucer, Elliot, and Thackery,
Shelley and Tennyson,
you once gave us Lord Blackstone,
a love for rule-of-law,
you faced down Napoleon
pried Europe from his claws,
held the line against the Nazis,
when all others had fell,
the full list of accomplishments
one voice could never tell.
Yet you throw away all of that,
toss aside geat glories,
just so you can get onboard
with the evil of P.C.?
So sink, sink Britannia,
just sink beneath the waves,
’cause a quick death is better
then living on as slaves.
(Satirically modeled after the famous poem 'Rule, Britannia' by James Thomson.)
Borassus Flallifer
dog leg
cowl
cladding
fascia
gullwing door
kammback
visual design
industrail design
Innovative concepts
Innovative concepts
pimplex
batmans crease
boot
bezel
binnacle
bonnet
he sketched these designs
and modeled from clay the forms
with leather and chrome and
beautiful wood
he made magnificence art
and was happy and satisfied
my love for this
a passionate need
speak it perfect: say it's yours
buy these perfections!
When I was a little girl, like other little girls, I craved Fame. As a child I modeled clothes for church fundraisers. And, sold Girl Scout Cookies, but no Fame. I even became a Candy Striper (one who volunteers to work in hospitals), but this did not yield Fame. A few years later I was writing verses for greeting cards and my friends said it was quite good. I went in to business for the first time, but still no Fame. At a later period in my life I took classes to be a Graphic Artist and graduated - A Little Fame. Then, a period came where I started to write and I believed I could write well enough to become a Famous writer. And although I sold some of my creations, the Fame that I craved had not materialized.
At this time in my life I found something that was greater than my cravings. It was God. Now, I don't crave Fame 'cause I don't need to be a star when I am a Masterpiece and a Star for Him.
If you have cravings or ambitions or just want Fame, ask God how you are to be. This will bring you to: FAITH, ALMIGHTY, MERCY AND ETERNITY.
THEY WROTE THINGS TO REMIND US
NOT OF FEARS OF STORMS
THEY MENTIONED CERTAIN DETAILS
BUT NEVER WARNED AGAINST HARM
THEY SIGHTED MADNESS AND RAGE
THE EXPECTATIONS OF LUST
THEY NEVR CREATED GUIDE LINES FOR
THOSE IN GOD WE TRUST
THEY SIGHTED IN DETAIL
AND WROTE IT WORD
CURSES FROM THEIR TIMES
THEY WE COULD HEAR WHAT THEY HEARD
THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE US
LEFT REMINDERS OF THE PAST
THEIR EXPECTATIONS OF THE FUTURE
STORIED FIRST TO LAST
THEY WISHED TO REMIND US
OF THESE UNCERTAIN THINGS
THEY MODELED OUR CURRENT CIVALIZATION
WITH THEIR DOOMY AND GLOOMY DREAMS
SOME WERE TO HELP US
SOME WERE FROM THEIR OWN HATE
THE MODELS OF LOVE ARE STORIED
THEY ARE NEVER PAST OR LATE
BUT SOME OF THESE MENTIONS
SCRIPTED FOR A WORLD TO HEAR
MAKES WRITTEN TO MAKE PEOPLE TO CRY
AND SOME WRITTEN TO MAKE US SHED A TEAR
Helpless Winners At The Fair
Clone Wolf
Tantrum Rages
Leader Of The Pack…
Careless Sycophants
Elephantile Contagions
Self-Defeating Victims.
The Old Irony Escapes
Bare-Knuckles
Modeled, Paling…
Grabbing Artificial
Pleasure From
Manipulation's
Freshest Kill.
Your Cheeks Are
Tender Bloody Sweet
All You Cuddle-
Yummy Treats!
Your Tribe Awaits
With A Better Hat And
Sweater - Be-Damned…
Re-Damned. AGAIN!
Idolizers.
What You ‘Really Needed’
Cost Us All Our
Arms And Legs.
Too Bad That
Couldn’t Save Our
Extremely Enormous:
Vapid
Heart And
Head, Instead…
Skull-Candy Now
In Sugar-Cotton.
-Gray Squirrel
06-30-2025
In a brilliant enchanted faerie forest, where deer were fed,
There was a mature, yet slightly miniature thistle bed,
Under shiny maple leaf completely opposite of red,
Was a tiny waif named Joyce resting her sweet empowered head
She had an independent streak, this petite, yet precocious mite.
Some people were afraid of her pure willingness to incite.
She questioned everyone in her village, with all of her might.
She let them know her opinions too, which were exceedingly bright.
She started with her parents, who role-modeled communication,
“Why? Who? When?” She would ask, “How can we get peace across the nation?”
She worked with some teachers, many who wanted reunification.
Pulled out community leaders, and neighbors, some in hibernation.
She advocated for the downtrodden, the unrepresented, and the oppressed.
“I’m here to help you fix the forest,” she answered, with understanding and finesse.
“Let’s listen to her,” the forest king said, “A child can help us clean up this mess.”
“Okay,” the committee agreed. They were all feeling exasperated and stressed.
She gave them her fantastic ideas of ruling the people by giving them a choice.
Some were dubious, irritated they had to listen to a knowledgeable elf named Joyce.
“Children still know how to follow their hearts,” the Forest King said. His amber brown eyes were moist.
The room hushed, and a corpulent engineer named Beau brought in a giant purple and pink hoist.
Joyce lifted high stood proud and tall, and spread her beautiful silver and gold translucent wings.
As she spoke the truth, her parents smiled and her credit-taking teachers began to sing.
Remember we are here to do our best, to inspire each other to really shine with zing.
“So be kind and gentle, thoughtful and good; and our amazing village will really be something!”
Yes, a child turned the whole village around; because the elfs and faeries knew to listen.
If you are really quiet in a garden on a summer day, you might catch a glisten.
Faeries are drawn to those who selflessly help, inspire, and love others.
If you don't believe me, go to the one who knows all. Pick up the phone and dial your mothers.
Everyone, while alive, longs to be an actor,
To direct their own life and be its author too—
All of it modeled on unvoiced, hidden fantasies.
A touch, a hurried breath, a whispered kiss—
All unfolding behind the curtains,
Yet displayed like a fetish in a brightly lit shop window.
"Dreams come true if you wish for them," goes the slogan,
And the body quivers in anticipation, until the over-saturated mind
Admits defeat before the unforgiving onset of old age.
But meanwhile, oblivion—written into the laws of humanity—
Comes to wash away the searing mark left by the tempest,
And the blood grows calm, lost in the winding paths of solitude.