Long Moms Poems
Long Moms Poems. Below are the most popular long Moms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moms poems by poem length and keyword.
Where are you going? The EMS workers are wondering
As a thousand screaming people run out
The EMS is running in
What can we do to help? The EMS workers are asking
Helping each other triage, in every way possible.
Children are being spoken to in soft voices as
Other EMS are putting sheets over their parents' bodies
All working together to help the child not see
Fully what has happened.
Where am I needed? The EMS workers are listening.
Hearing what they need to hear, travelling hard and fast
To rescue, comfort, and hold someone's hand that last time
Because Moms and Dads cannot be everywhere.
Grandma's prayers do not always cover everything.
Grandpa's sometimes leave their Super Hero suits in the closet
So we have angels, spirits, and EMS workers
In the form of firemen, policemen, nurses,
Doctors, medics, EMTS, and paramedics,
Picking up the slack, running in when everyone else
is running out, running away, and running amok.
They keep us calm, they listen, they encourage, they coax,
But mostly they show us the love we need when we need it.
Another Sunday morning
Crouched in the beam of headlights
Steam coming off coffee and breath
Fumbling to pin race bib to pants
A romance
Of sorts; this dance I’m addicted to
Those magic numbers: 5k, 13.1, and
The boss lady: 26.2 (I’m coming after you)
But why? Friends ask
You’re crazy they say on posts
Of me on each early Sunday
I say nothing back, but heart the comment
I can’t explain what the rhythmic pound; the sound
of New Balanced footstrikes does
For the broken part of me
How the week’s aggression
That needs suppressing is sweated out
And gathered up in Nike’s moisture-wicking fabric
How weaving through the crowd of neophytes
Wearing today’s race shirt, alternately
Sprinting then walking
And the kids, eager, then over it
The moms reclaiming a body that sheltered
The now-strollered baby
The geriatrics, shoes well-used
Nimble limbs, not brittle but abused
From pounding pavement years before this
This environment, atmosphere
Big race crowds or small informal
Stopwatch race; doesn’t matter
Just involved; a part of this kinship
Unspoken club affiliation; in passing
Not a wave, but nod
A head bob of appreciation
For another’s association;
Obsession with times, miles,
Post-race selfie smiles
Because I know there will come a day
That my body will betray
My runner’s soul.
But for now I stand at the start
Ready for race gun and one more mile
2/14/19
Hobbies Contest
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
8/8/16
Always grew up in poverty
Moms rented the space and property
At times we struggled and seeing her in pain always bothered me
Honestly
I thought about doing robberies
Because I wanted to bring in more broccoli constantly
Even if I never possibly
Had a chance to ever win the lottery
But I knew that would probably
Break her heart apart, which was wrong of me
So I tried to do it responsibly
And properly
But I haven't really hit the mark, due to too much monotony
Does it make me crazy?
I don't know maybe
It's all good in the hood
If you don't ever want to accept my apology
I'll just continue on my odyssey
Treating others with respect and equality
As I move vertically and horizontally
I've worked with a fair share
Of commodities
But never mahogany
To tell you the truth, I've always had an interest in archaeology
And so many other things including astrology
In space there remains anomalies
Amid a galaxy full of objects moving at high speed velocities
Scientists using newer and better technology
With excitement and curiosity
Looking to find some kind of new life form or colony
By: Dalton Ogletree
People grieve the loss of their moms and dads,
and the worst thing is that they couldn't see
them on the their final moment and hold their hand
by the bedside...how horrible that is!
How heartwrenching it must be!
We all have been affected in tragic ways,
but if the soul can't weep, that pain remains
acute and won't ever escape misery!
Have you lost a dearest friend,
so suddenly and the least expected?
A good cry can heal and comfort
the saddest and the lonliest heart,
if it finds who can alleviate its sorrow;
only a few are able to heal their wounds,
but who's willing to sacrifice their time,
putting aside vanity and pride...
before they notice the glances of afflictions?
Can anyone prevent what is to come?
Our present day is the worst time
for afflictions and its hopelessness is invasive
and mortal thinking that we are trapped and eventually die
of depression and solitude before we are rescued by others
can prayers alter fate when all attempts have failed us?
What else can we do to stay afloat and survive?
Children dashing and laughing throughout the mess.
Moms and dads trying not to throw away toys
As they gather up scads of shredded Christmas wrapping
Grandmas begging them to keep the bows.
Blinking twinkling Christmas tree looking less magical,
Appears shabbier in the morning than it did last night
Boys with swords having a dual, chasing each other.
One nervous grandma mentioning the danger.
Granddads sleeping in their recliners, not hearing any of it
Someone yelling “That is your last Christmas cookie!”
Her sisters chiding her, making fun, hugging her.
Everyone grown up is a kid for a day, with their grown siblings.
Christmas at Grandma’s house, nothing like it.
Only once a year, making memories for a life time
Beef and noodles, scalloped corn, mashed potatoes
Five kinds of pies, mints, cookies. Wow!
Children watching their parents becoming kids again
As their mothers tell them what to do.
Not all children, some are sneaking mints and nuts.
Homemade Christmas stockings thrown into clumps.
Christmas feelings without names
More intense than other feelings
More personal, more exciting, more magical
Christmas. A day to celebrate our Christ Child.
It’s funny what a picture can say,
When you look real deep and watch them lay,
Closer than they have ever been,
How to describe and where to begin,
The start of their destiny,
Two little angels, happy and carefree,
The oldest awake and taken it in,
His little face glistening.
For the first time he is not the only one,
Mom brought new life, another son,
In his eyes he’s proud and filled with bliss,
I am sure there is only one thing he will miss,
Getting all the attention, all of the time,
Sharing his parents love, at times won’t be fine,
But as they grow, they will have such a bond
A journey through life like two little swans
Tending to one another’s needs
But also sometimes needing the oldest to lead,
With no doubt when there in school,
the oldest one will always be cool,
If anyone ever tries to make the little one look like a fool,
He will be protected, that’s the brotherly rule,
The little one always watching and tagging along,
Looking up to his brother, who will always appear to be strong,
They may fight with each other,
But God forbid, someone messes with that little kid,
The hero role will consume the oldest child,
Fire will spark and he will become quit wild,
They will go through so many stages,
Write so many pages,
In their childhood series
It will make moms eyes teary,
As they get older the lessons they learn,
Will keep their hearts turned,
To one another forever,
no matter the weather,
No one will break that,
They cannot fake that,
It all starts with a picture and a smile,
The innocence and joy of being a child.
By: Sabina
4/30/11
All night unto dawn, a gentle sadness,
a comforting...
a dreaming rain falling,
as the world recalls its ancient roots.
I listen to soccer moms backing-out of driveways,
the last moment rumpus of heel-dragging kids.
The mail van trundles-by,
sparrows bathe in warm puddles.
Trains merge with geese
in long slipstreams of sound.
All is well, all newly
washed
the world a child again.
She’d pull her hair, mean as a rhinoceros.
But I do care, though she skipped school
on that fateful final day of her life on earth.
Funny how I did not know about it.
Until yesterday I’d have thought she lived,
waiting to die like the rest of us, one day.
I cracked open the box to grab the handful
of group’d Catholics - kindergarten to sixth.
We all look sweet when we smile, we’re fixed
up by parents who care how we look on the outside.
Surprised how I remember many of the names
and just as surprised at the forgotten ones.
For me, I had teeth missing, one black tooth,
one collar tucked into my dull-colored jumper.
Jealous of the moms who’d fix ribbon’d pigtails.
My favorite of me was in fifth, showed I was pretty,
too. I go from student to student through seven
years. All dear to me, now. Each soul, each name -
perhaps I shouldn’t have compassion on each
but I desperately want to believe in their goodness.
2/6/2021
The poker game wuz progressin' purty well 'til Iron Mike started a ruckus!
Seems he had some spare aces up his sleeve, that dirty, sneaky cuss!
One-Eyed Pete didn't cotton to them shenanigans and drew his forty-four!
Iron Mike jumped up, toppled chairs and tables a-skedaddlin' fer the door!
That started the biggest brawl that the town uv Buckskin Joe had ever seen!
The mob wuz yellin' fer Iron Mike's head but he had prudently fled the scene!
One-Eared Earl, the barkeep, fired his rods a-tryin' to restore some order.
Meanwhile, Iron Mike wuz racin' on a stolen hoss fer the Mexican border!
The pianner player kept playin', "A Hot Time In The Old Town Tonight!"
('Twas Three-Fingered Clyde who tickled the keys fer free booze ever' night!)
Big Nell, who belted out bawdy songs each night, wuz involved, fists a-flyin'!
She busted some noses and shattered some teeth, and I ain't a-lyin'!
A dozen er so uv Madam Rosita's soiled doves joined in the fray as well,
A-kickin' and a-scratchin' and pullin' hair and generally raisin' 'ell!
There wuz so many shots fired that night, it seemed like war had started.
Many drunks awoke the next day to find that thar hair had been parted!
Studs Flanigan, the bouncer, wuz trampled as the fight spilled out on the street.
This sensitive affair caused a deeper rift between the rabble and the town's elite!
So as not to hear the fussin' and cussin', moms covered their kids tender ears.
Old-timers claimed they hadn't enjoyed sech a show in Buckskin Joe fer years!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Can't understand the kids today
they look at life in a different way,
they don't seem to see the things we see
and have no idea what they want to be,
teenagers dressed in funny gear
swearing, smoking, drinking beer,
their music sounds like they're in pain
I'm sure they'll drive us all insane,
of course, it's just the kids today
it never used to be this way,
when we were young, not long ago
we liked our moms and dads to know,
the music we played was for them
to listen to, but not condemn,
we wore our clothes with lots of pride
and dressed up when we went outside,
we wouldn't ever start a fight
in fact we did everything right.