Long Not now Poems
Long Not now Poems. Below are the most popular long Not now by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Not now poems by poem length and keyword.
I know you are here
My old, friend
Hoovering til I cover
My nakedness
With warmth
What is to bring me comfort
In this life of storm
All this grief
That clings to form
I'm tired, so sleepy
I believe I will rest
Not now my love
I must confess
I can NOT endure your
....truth
Wait...I thought you knew me
Why do you push me toward
The very thing I loathe
A roaring fire
Some wine
A nice, pink, bath robe
You have no heart
Ideals and illusions
Leading down a path
Of elliptical conclusions
....never panning out
Fools gold
I've been sold
Way too old
To be told
....truth....with any value
No, no, I will not lend an ear
I need to sleep
Medicine will take me quick
It's prescribed
Rest is essential
I haven't the will....to fight
Fight!?!
That's not right
When did I fight
What's there to fight
When the doctor is right
....I must rest
Truth stands erect
Brazen, naked, on
My resting bed
She won't be denied
My old, trusted friend
...lied
......would have rejoiced
............if I had died....yet I remain
With a life, and a hell of a lot to gain.
Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-23-2022
This factory has the bales delivered. Bales of unwanted, disused, thrown about, torn up, ripped and antiquated clothes. Once loved but not now. Bales measured by tonnes. Bales needing the forklift. Bales delivered once a month.
This factory hauls these bales, one at a time, to the factory floor. On the floor they are ripped open and gutted, their blood of clothes oozing across the floor before the cutters. The cutters who take never ending handfuls of this gut to their trolley, to their cutting machine.
This factory slices arms off, rips legs open, carves neck lines off, zippers and buttons slashed away, never to see the pants again. The entire garment scored back to its crude original form. A form of square material. Square material with nothing of interest, unwearable.
And tossed into the empty waiting bag, Waiting to become 15kg of unwearable square slices of material.
This factory fills an empty bag to 15kg, hundreds of 15kg bags. These bags await the drive to a new owner. An owner who’ll love this square rag in a moment. Become intimate with this square in a moment. Sharing this square with oil, grease, dirt, mud, rust, stains and fuels.
Once unloved and unused becomes unwearable to useful and one last spike of intimacy again before the inevitable oblivion takes the rag for the final joy ride.
The rag factory.
Heading for the Bus
Trees along the street
whispered in the wind
after I stepped out the door.
The wife across the street waved
and ushered her young son
and younger daughter into her van.
Better to enjoy them now, I thought,
before the time is lost.
I knew the names of every car
along the street. Mine broke down.
The golden retrievers a block away
were already calling for me.
I enjoyed sharing stories with anyone
who stood in the yard that needed
their care. I stepped over cracks
in the broken and uneven sidewalk.
Each morning my stories found new life.
I lived them again. A fresh breeze
as if it was always spring,
but my bones ached after traveling
across the state, memories borne.
Two blocks away an elderly woman
was helped by her daughter to her car.
She said she saw so many things
when working as a clerk for the city
police department. She said some
people came back repeating their mistakes.
She said she just spent three days
in the hospital, but she kept her yard.
She said that she wasn’t going to give up
on life, not now. Her mower sat in the garage.
I took snippets of life but glanced at my watch—
I had a bus to catch. The bright sun welcomed
the day as traffic passed and I stood with a stranger.
morning called
so much yet
to be lived
Gaza—
I was there.
I have seen the blood.
I have seen suffering
beyond words.
Israel—
the world will not forget.
Not now.
Not in time.
I saw pain
in the eyes of the people.
I saw innocence
caught in war.
I saw men
broken and killed.
I saw women
crying in fear.
I saw children
starving in silence.
Gaza today
is a place of sorrow.
A place
where humanity is questioned.
When all this suffering unfolds—
where is the world?
Israel—
what wrong
have the people of Gaza done?
How many must fall
before it ends?
America.
Europe.
You speak of human rights.
Yet your actions
tell another story.
You send support.
You send weapons.
And the suffering continues.
Blood in Gaza
falls day and night.
If Israel has a right to exist—
what of Gaza?
What of its people?
No power
is above judgment.
No nation
escapes history.
Israel—
what is not just
will never bring peace.
The blood in the Middle East
will not be forgotten.
It will return
as a question of justice.
And Gaza—
will not be erased.
When results are not in, the night the polls close
It gives rise to the lies from all those we despise
From those who the liars all hope that we chose
The ones who dishonestly seek to depose
All but buyers of liars, wearing emperor's clothes
No longer a virtue… if it ever was
You can search at the church but it won't likely cause
Plausible deniability to not rule the day
Which now has its sway
In whatever endeavor for those who will pay
It's our terrible two's so we elected a toddler
Didn't think twice so we did it again
It's trying, this lying, there should be a trial
And trials like this are where it rubs thin
And thin skinned or weak chinned again it begins
But thin skinned or weak chinned, it matters not now
We must learn where we've been or we're going back now
And we'll keep going south, the further we go
As we live hand to mouth, til there's nothing to show
For the hard work put in to get us this far
We crawled, then we walked, then we talked a good game
Taught the world all the rules until they did the same
Now the world waits to see if we'll take the next step
To a healthy childhood, and then adolescence,
Responsible adulthood before our senescence
As a country we'd better learn from these lessons
And lessen the likelihood we've lost the essence
But waiting's not dating or baiting or hating
It's anticipating what we can do better
And we sure could improve on a lying bed wetter
Third times the harm sustained by the bluster
That fulfills the promise of all the King's muster
The Midas inside us has led to the crows
Who gather the shiny bits He always throws
And it's all worn thin as the Emperor's clothes
...Spike’s two partners stood gaping,
their faces white and stunned,
Moral said,”Who’ll be next?
Or would you prefer to run?”
They took off in a hurry,
were half-way to the Utah line
by the time Sherrif Blane
was able to stop by.
He looked down at the body,
said,”Moral, what have you done?”
“Defended myself,”Moral spoke,
“Just the same as any one.”
Sheriff could not beleive it,
Said,”Didn't expect this from you.”
A flash of anger stirred Moral,
“Then let me say a thing or two!
“You all call me ‘Moral,’
to the point that it’s a joke
do you think it’s very moral
to just sit back and croak?
“These bastards came after me,
should I just sit and wait?
Is it moral for a good man
to surrender to others’ hate?
“They say to turn the other cheek,
good advice when you can,
but my life is a gift from God
to be taken by no man.
“And though it seems so brutal,
Spike laid out, covered in red,
if he hadn’t tried to murder me
he would not now be dead!
“We all must make our choices,
and pay for every one,
but the most moral thing I ever did
was drawing my damn gun!”
With that he stormed off angry,
none dared to block his way,
“It was an act of self-defense,”
all the witnesses did say.
Quite soon after his nickname
just seemed to disappear,
some said it was newfound respect,
mixed with a dash of fear.
And from that day onward,
they said of this moral man:
“Don’t push the good ones to the brink,
or they’ll kill you where you stand.”
Life’s full of calls
some good,
some bad
even expedient
I’ve made them all
I’m not here for the long haul
Get through today
to gain tomorrow
If I get past tonight,
There is no given
when it comes to living
One moment strong
the next vulnerable
then it’s gone
I don’t pray
not properly anyway
if there is such a way,
Who gets to say!
What is balance
a coffee and a biscuit
sometimes yes
contentment
til I need a pee
hopefully don’t miss
Good call,
ah…! the bliss
Hurt’s never far away
love is nearer
Comes much dearer
what a price to pay
Let’s not go there,
not now
can I be any clearer
Bad calls I’ll try avoid
at least today
I’m a liar
I’ve already made one
not too late to redeem
Its Mother’s Day
Should I visit her grave
or go tomorrow
Mum was always forgiving
so It’ll be ok
I’ll wait til I’m not busy
just like today
Another call is needed,
would it not be better to go
when I am busy
more respectful
find the time as she did
on so many occasions,
No! an expedient call is needed
I’ll go now
and finish this off later
I’m back,
Poem’s done
I love you mum!
By
David Kavanagh
money, money, and money
wherever I move my face whenever
I'm whispered by greedy inclination
oh;
the money cause of severe death as well as life,
the money cause of ineffable disrespect as well as respect,
the money cause of harrowing poverty as well as richness,
the money cause of inhuman war as well as peace,
but the money is not the cause of knowledge, wisdom,
sagacious stability of mind, eternal peace
no; never I wanted the money
not now I am ravenous for the money
won’t have to give me the money
yes, give me poetry, give me the poetry
where I find the pure fragrance of wisdom, saintly peace of eternity
(3/11/2020 11:24:00 PM)
Death’s finger points - not now –
but when. Scans the crowd
claiming some at start of day
letting others in twilight linger.
Caring not for kith and kin
nor hearts or spirits broken
Death points an icy finger
claims - another token.
Draws the life from all who love
with passionless disdain.
Death points and in his taking
is numb to dying’s pain.
Death’s finger points, unwavering,
no thoughts of grace – or sin,
Death points and sheds a dripless tear
perhaps his job is killing him.
John G. Lawless
11/15/08
submitted to - The Life of Death - Poetry Contest
sponsor - Anthony Slausen
How fast is life going!
When i was young I did not give it a thought
I was to busy with lots of things
Important to me in that time
butt not now.
How fast is life going?
Not too much time to express
all of my love for all people i care,
parents, brothers, sisters, friends.
Me and them will not be here for too long.
I do not want to think anymore
for things that separate us
I just want to give love and smile
Whatever happens, to give a hug
It does not cost
To say one good word
It does not cost
I want to be remembered as a lovely person
who only gave, and did not ask for anything in return.
I know i will not be here forever
Everything change
Winter leaves and comes
Spring leaves and comes
Summer leaves and comes
Autumn leaves and comes
But nothing is ever the same.
Time is our enemy
We lost the fight with it.
How fast is life going?!
Only one chapter divided into three parts Birth, Life and Death
Like a rose that is planted, grows, blooms then dies...