Long Natural Poems
Long Natural Poems. Below are the most popular long Natural by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Natural poems by poem length and keyword.
Stop talking about revolution, revolution
It's not like winning the lottery, the ‘election’
When a real revolution is on the move
Nobody, nobody can stop it.
Stop, stop, quit, and quit being hypocrite it
When a real revolution is on the move
Nobody can stop it. Election
Will never be synonymous with selection.
Revolution is about drastic positive move
It is about real and natural change for the nation
A revolution is about optimism in a fair election
When people can vote freely for a better condition.
Think! Use your brain and your God-given imagination
For a better world, for fairness and better comprehension
Sop being hypocrite. Nobody can stop it
When a real revolution is on the move.
Copyright © June 2020, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved..
Ever wonder what happens if one day they switched the Wheels of Fortune into the wheels of memory, with the host announcing, look folks today we play a new game, call it sympathy game, here is how it goes. You each select a name from this list on the screen, it’s Gaza casualty list, and then learn all there is to know about your new identity. Let me give you an example.
Sadeel Ghasan, a 15 year old from the Jenin refugee camp. Her parents came from Al-Kabri overrun in 1948 fearing a massacre.
Sadeel had three siblings, only one left now, Mahmoud 8, old enough to know Sadeel was an angel, excelled in volleyball and marth, that her head was crushed. They’re still collecting pieces of their parents, also killed by tank fire.
So, here’s the game. When I point at you, stand and say I ‘m a Palestinian, my name is Sadeel, I used to have a fair full of hair and am headless now. No, I did not die by natural causes. I now live in someone’s memory, it’s warm and cozy, and am thrilled to know one day they’ll bring the tank commander to justice for his atrocities.
My friends, we have to keep breaking the chains until the gate opens
**Depression Tendency**
How is it that I miss you?
I can't stop these hallucinations,
That I'm nothing without you!
At times, I wonder how you've been?
Still I struggle to find ways to let you back in!
You left and took the depressive mood with you
Now how could you leave me with this fake attitude?
How I long for solitary, that comes with endless solitude
Somehow my body hunger for the emptiness of devil's food.
LIFE! Is still an energy, I must waste~
The improvement of nothing came with no after taste
I thought I found the perfect prescription,
"TO MY BROKEN DOWNSTATE!"
Instead, I noticed the world I don't want to face.
The day I released you from my life,
I smiled to see my first sunrise.
I thought that happiness would bring beautiful sunsets.
Instead, they led me into feelings of more regret.
The void of YOU came with potential side effects.
Laundering around naked without my cloak of depression complex.
Life never found a way to regulate the balance of certain chemicals,
that lay deep in the bowels of my brain.
Here I stand expressing the best bipolar depression in every way.
Now my sleeping disorder has gone away.
I don't want these symptoms of being sane every day.
I need that dramatic change in my appetite,
I miss the way food had no delight.
I'm tired of all this excessive energy.
I don't want the pleasure of reality.
I want the feelings of hopelessness, with no forgiveness.
I want the feelings of worthlessness, helplessness, and self-hate.
I wanna feel the agitation when I found it difficult to concentrate.
I want the thoughts of slow death in a fetal position state.
I need to intrigue myself without sleep or dreaming.
With the concept that nothing in life is worth redeeming.
Becoming barricaded ~ keeping myself withdrawn.
With my natural born depression tendencies'
From DUSK TILL DAWN!
by;p.d.
Is my room in such disarray
That I'm not even seeing straight?
Are those dust bunnies wearing candy wrappers as hats?
Their building an army, I'm under attack!
They start to charge towards me with their toothpick swords
holding shields made of buttons and whips made of extension cords
They begin constructing a catapult made up of popsicle sticks and a wooden spoon
One by one the dust bunnies shoot across the room
Ducking every attempt to hit them with the broom
I bet I can suck those little buggers up with my trusty vacuum
Their little cries are covered up by my suction tool of death
I hope you bunnies enjoyed your last breath
I will keep my room clean I promise you
Now I am aware of what dust bunnies can do.
Generally, the flow of the river
Is engaging, wonderful, inviting
My LOVE wanted to take me rafting
So that I could learn what humanity is fighting
To the left, I see an abandoned child
Sleeping on the thorny bank
Suddenly, a boulder arose
And my heart sank
....to the bottom
The rocks cut my feet
As I walked the rocky bed
I saw an orphan
Who had been left for dead
Then I saw a child
Yell profanity's at his mother
As he expressed his anger
At being held accountable for another
...bottom feeder
An old and dear friend
Shunned my open arms of care
Though I have full reign of the River
She pushed me to stay where
...she'd placed me
An elderly man escorts a child
To buy her physical affection
Without natural affinity
To fight and ensure her protection
But the loaded gun
I took from the child's hand
Was Mama making him responsible
For his baby brother in Playland
...while she grew fat
As I realized that I can't shoot
And I'm opposed to the handling of steal
I passed it to my LOVE
And floated up to the top to embrace what is real
We finished our ride through humanity
To a decision that had to be made
Hopelessness pushed to blacken LOVE
But it was to LOVE, I freely laid
...despair
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-06-2018
The grave of life stories
on the shoulder of flying shrewd hawk
As a worshipper of nature
I enjoy it copiously in excellent scientific inventions.
All through dazzling scientific junctions
I forget life is short living.
The universe would live in an ancient savage natural world
if like my narrow thoughts, the reverend scientists would think
To me- life is short, and art is long
But to the creative scientist- the whole of me in wrong
A creative life is a valuable part of the universe
But lazy life is a narrow-minded pulse
So, let's leave the perverted thoughts of life
Be creative, avoiding all illative believing strife
-09.12.2020 Chattogram
Rising to a familiar door
I knew I had no key
No way to get in
Except resonance within me
I rose, and home called
I drew near to what I knew
Like a homeland left behind
The ground itself running through
....code
There you were, waiting
As though I had just stepped away
That slay-me smile, welcoming
This time, I get to stay
I looked around at the walls
Accepting that I am fully known
I could return to my origin
Because my essence had grown
...aware
Spiritual and natural reunited
In the banquet hall for a feast
Together, we pierced it with the TRUTH
And finally slayed the BEAST
The family is gathered all around
Singing and dancing in HIS GLORY
For eternity, living saints will proclaim
LOVE unfolds the purity of HIS story
...in heart
Written by Trudy Schrader on 01-25-2026
I aged a small number of hours,
none the worse
since posting about Daylight Savings Time,
a radiant playful verse
teasingly succeeded against being terse,
a cogent tangential thread,
where passage of "time"
ranks front and center
this central theme constitutes cultish obsession
with vibrant youthfulness
as if senescence a crime imposed
(at birth) on every purse
son, thus a healthy and prominant grow wing
(nee bursting out all over)
market and cottage industries didst swing
into high gear (make that overdrive)
addressing telomeres shortcomings
justifies tamper ring
with chromosomal genes
to sustain bug eyed sales figures,
asper amazing grace full spy king
scales into the stratosphere,
with cosmetic surgeons hoe ping
where, (particularly among
baby boomer generation)
appear younger looking than offspring
(albeit, whereat either gender undergoing
bust ting bosoms and tightening tushies)
to foster said tune, where billions of dollars
come into play, I haint joe king
this feeding frenzy removing without a trace
(of surgeon's needle) unsightly wrinkles,
stretch marks, blemishes, et cetera
(over a life time) fulfilling vanity
in the name of eternal quest to dupe biology
paying mega bucks postponing twilight/ evening
years not yielding to depredations when dotage
a stark reminder what natural aging doth bring
superficial (skin deep) transformations,
which cannot reboot major organs
allowing elderly to rock with van
halen again, since primary maximal apex
i.e. post adolescence/
early adulthood marked urban
boisterous antics, the tacitly accepted behavior,
that would appear down right foolish
as if elders played kick the can
if chronologically old geezers let Mother Nature
rightfully round up steering committee
gently rowing rickety ship of lovely bones
dutifully paying (chump change) to the bargeman.
You probably feel like the world is against you.
This letter is for that young woman from fifty years ago.
She was eighteen years old; that was me. I experienced those feelings back then, and as I look back through a reverse mirror of time, I realize that while the societal context may have changed, the emotions and struggles I faced remain relevant. They highlight enduring themes like resilience and identity.
Individual experiences are crucial; they illuminate broader issues and provide vital insights into the historical context that informs today’s discussions. Focusing on the past is essential for understanding present challenges—it doesn’t hinder progress; it fuels it. By sharing my narrative, I hope to empower young women and inspire them to recognize the connections between the past and the present as they forge their paths.
Forget about your looks; they will come in time. Look around you; it’s all about visualizing what Mother Nature can do. The potential is there, but you may struggle to understand how to harness it. I assure you that you can profit from the land. Those wild aloe stalks you see are just the beginning. In fifty years, they will be showcased in the beauty industry.
The Pure Aloe Vera Gel: Aloderma Pure Aloe Gel is a fast-acting moisturizer that helps restore the skin’s natural balance and hydration. It provides intense hydration for a plump and supple complexion. It’s lightweight, fast-absorbing, and suitable for all skin types.
By 2025, it will cost millions of dollars and be an essential ingredient in most facial products aimed at reversing the aging process. Unlike Rihanna Fenty's product line which focuses on a variety of products, this is about using all-natural ingredients from the land. This was us against the world, and here I am today, looking back in time to see your reaction as you read this letter.
People may laugh at you now, but you will strive to embody the beauty of a goddess. Even as I write this narrative letter to you, I still feel your pain. People back then were afraid of the unknown; we were not. We were wise and adventurous.
Be brave, be strong, and remember that you are sheltered under the blood of Jesus. Read Psalm 91 daily.
You think you are strong,
That you have control over yourself,
But then, events lay their violent hands on you,
And all your strengths get shattered into pieces
Like a glass hitting a rock
Your eyes betray you
Tears start rolling down your face
Your voice begins to tremble
Your heart lowers its music
Reasons, justifications, excuses you give
Weak, unworthy, and lonely you feel
Your heart screams, your lips narrate it to them
Nothing wrong have you done
Your discourse dose have weight
But they don’t care…
It all seems a drama to them,
Or just a natural penance!
They too, deep down, might feel bad
But they show it not,
Will expressing their love make them weak ?
Or listening to your heart will make them lose?
So, as usual, they wrap another layer of anger over love
Instead of saying “it’s okay”, they yell
And you feel like a bird, broken, lying in a cage
And if you dare to respond back
It will take the argument to yet another level
Nothing will be left
Nothing, without regrets and sorrows
Is this life too long to love or to live happily?
Do we have to make it hell to live it??
(paghunda)