Long Nothing personal Poems
Long Nothing personal Poems. Below are the most popular long Nothing personal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nothing personal poems by poem length and keyword.
Interstate Packing & Rendering Co.
Mark is dead
he died in a
highspeed
head-on
CRASH
driving a piece
of high-powered
GM
tin
And when
they separated
flesh & blood
from metal & crud
there was nothing
left
of him
***
Two Olives
When I am left alone to ponder
to dream & waft
& my muse to wander
I can come up
with such rational reasons
& excuses for me
being
here
but rush me
with idle & mindless
cocktail chatter
& I might agree
quite pragmatically
that it was a careless error
on the part of a passionate Creator,
so why discuss the matter?
***
Selective Sacrifice
Sorry son
You’ve got to go
Times have changed
Didn’t you know
The beast is hungry
And he must be fed
And boys like you
Must spill the red
It’s your price to pay
To live in this land
Nothing personal, you understand
Here’s your papers, sign them all
You must respond
When Detroit calls
Take up the flag
Take up the gun
Sandstones waiting if you run
I’m sorry son
But you’ve got to go
Times have changed
Didn’t you know?
E.J. Hudak ca. 1969
empty words without meaning
words mumbled for mere formality
lost in rolling endless echoes
we understand the game
and agree it's nothing personal
just filler to mask the silence that besets us
so we erect tall fences, add padlocks
and answer the knock of only the rare few
we keep it formal so not to muddy waters
how do you do? is not a question
our fine means I don’t want to talk
or I’m not convinced you care
don’t you see how we’ve become blasé
or maybe just maybe we need to better
recognize those pauses of genuine concern
so a how do you feel? becomes
a how do you feel about me?
because I care and we can be friends
AP: Honorable Mention 2023, Honorable Mention 2023
Wahala Yon Trouble Problem
Man, I am in hot water
In a jam wit out peanut butter
Nothing personal man
been in the soup up against it
Yet in all this N that
I am renewed in Christ
Wahala Yon Trouble Problem
Life's annoyance unpleasantness tribulation
I am of the perfect nation
we've hear a man born of woman is full of trouble
so in this in that unpleasantness annoyance
disquieted issues end results
blessedness
Wahala Yon Trouble Problem
pidgin
Wahala Yon Trouble Problem
wahala yon gbege wahala
man, i am for hot water
for a jam wit komot peanut butter
nothing personal man
been for di soup up against it
yet for all dis n dat
i am renewed for christ
life's annoyance unpleasantness tribulation
i am for di perfect kontri
we've hear a man born for woman na full for gbege
so for dis for dat unpleasantness annoyance
disquieted wahala end results
blessedness
4/11/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
Your breath could move mountains
The Himalayas used to be in France
Are you pregnant my sweet young filly
Or is that a watermelon in your pants
I've seen better legs on an orangutang
Nothing personal don't take offence
Turn your head sideways for a moment
Wow! Your nose is quite immense
Now about that patch of hair on your face
Was that from some childhood disease
Your shoes must have to be specially made
Bet you can walk on the Sea of Galilee
Your eyes are like deep cesspools
Your lips remind me of a rubber dinghy
But aside from all these strange features
You're better looking than my friend Jimmy
To President Joe Biden
Anecdote : It is an ode to poetry, nothing personal, nothing satirical, and the ultrasound is a personal experience of further need in contemplation of my left breast, where unwanted growths gave me a huge dilemma of metaphorical islands, benign or cancerous, does not matter.
Shawna has a sharp shape , robust figurative speech
Strange, nosy, but arrogant, stern and stubborn in beauty.
Her newly wed face had a bridal glow, sunlight mystery
She is particular in her pink dresses, pink lipsticks
and in her pink stones in carved jewels.
I remembered her through the legacy of thirteen years
Hospital floors are shiny, hinting in polished and polishing epigraphs
Reasons. Limiting definitions. Wanted and fine-tuned reasons.
The soap opera in happening time on the TV screen
mounted on the higher end, had an obnoxious hetero-mixture in latency
Las Vegas casinos or improper door fixation in pious inter-courses, timely or otherwise or whatever.
Always an earned longevity in otherwise, other way, in urging other needs.
No one permit it though
The janitors in duty, or the front desk attendants
All were busy too, belonging somewhere elsewhere.
Then I realized, I was wrongly -matched in my pairs of shoes
No one spared the other control, endless saga of two edged folding.
Although, I am a success story of a substantial assimilation of homo-sapiens tribal affair.
I have two eyes, two hands and two strong feet,
Strong, sensible and rational in a rationalizing world.
In the wider sense, too.
I did not recall Shawna , it was still a cloudy aftermath, till that pausing time.
But the end time was drawing closer and closer..
In the beforehand receipt of the ultrasound , and with the post one also.
So that doctor can convert these images into information
humane information
A rusty bastard life earning generous aristocrat reason
To keep it ongoing in Shawna's impeccable life
and in mine too, with my formal prosecutions of cacophony
of falling short in paired shoes.
Therefore the sonic time can heal and deal and reveal
The eternal research question of
The supplicating feminine weep hole.
You say it's nothing personal
this neglect you throw my way
but surely you can see it is political
to fire me from power within your sentient life
this
or any other
day?
And, if political then economic
as we have no investments or divestments
without some self and/or other enlightened intention
of co-relational transaction
or diminishment from what had been
mutually empowering relationship.
No longer hope of these enriching transfers
of self with other power
that have meant so much to me,
for me,
of me.
Yet, yes I can see,
you need to protect yourself
with this belief
that somehow neglect of therapeutic process
is nothing personal,
just political and economic.
Thanks so much for this reminder
our sacred relationship
was merely your secular commodity.
Only twenty-five years since I took your name,
fluorescent lights, a government building,
the officiant a stranger we met that morning—
no pictures, no rehearsals, just vows
read like lines on a form, under a plastic trellis
someone thought might make the room
feel more human.
My shoulders shook with laughter
you didn’t get and still don’t.
It came from some gut-deep knowing,
like my body caught the future unfolding
before I could see it. That laugh hit hard,
spilled into my knees, a crack of thunder
in the dead air of something meant to be holy.
I told you not to take it personally.
You stood stiff, ironing your silence into the room,
flattening the wrinkles of your suit
while I swallowed every word.
Now, my skin wears its own proof,
fine lines scratched into corners of my eyes,
crow’s feet tracking down each glance
you could never follow. Eleven years
your junior, and somehow, I’m older—
moments pulling tight until we’re both
squinting at the same dim horizon.
At night, you drift off beneath blinking LEDs,
chin tucked to chest. I stretch the minutes,
stealing them from a day long erased,
rolling them like old newsreels,
flickering memories across hours
we no longer name.
I wipe yesterday’s drool from your chin—
twenty-five years of cleaning up
the mess time left behind.
And somehow, it’s still funny—
how the punchline never landed,
how I’m still holding onto this joke
that split open between those vows and now.
I laugh because I knew, even before 'I do'
that none of this would ever be personal.
What's a woman
without a man?
Woman of strength
living like a man...
What's a woman
with no man?
Woman of fears
driven crazy like a man...
What's a woman in you?
strength there is in you...
What's a woman in you?
torn inside of you...
What makes a woman
with somebody true?
All beauty of a woman
love and all comes out in you
Woman out of chains
woman over pains
Body of silence
strength in essence
Woman who has everything
much more a man can bring
Woman's great soul unremitting
all men die for, not complaining
Woman of any man
will love and die for an honest man
But woman will opt to have none
than have one, less of a man
I am only writing this...
Nothing personal please...
(Prosebite)
Your breath could move mountains
The Himalayas used to be in France
Are you pregnant my sweet young filly
Or is that a watermelon in your pants
I've seen better legs on an orangutang
Nothing personal don't take offence
Turn your head sideways for a moment
Wow! Your nose is quite immense
Now about the patchy hair on your face
Was that from some childhood disease
Your shoes must have to be specially made
Bet you can walk on the Sea of Galilee
Your eyes are like deep cesspools
Your lips remind me of a rubber dinghy
But aside from all these strange features
You're better looking than my friend Jimmy
© Jack Ellison 2014
What is Truth?
That old unanswered question.
I know when I'm telling a lie though.
I lie not. There I was
minding my own business,
making myself a complimentary cup of coffee
in the hotel lobby when
this man leaves his seat
and stands right next to me, glaring.
"Where is she?"
He wore a workman's knitted skull cap.
He pierced me with steely blue eyes.
He was tall and strongly built.
I was about to say "Who is she?"
but thought better of it.
He'd think I was questioning his judgment
in posing such a question.
"I've been looking for her over a year now."
I thought I should say something reassuring.
"Just wait a little. She'll soon be back."
"Who do you bloody well think you are?
What gives you the right to say such a thing?"
"Nothing personal," I blurted. "Nothing personal.
I took "she" to refer generically to all womankind."
I think it took him four seconds to ingest my words,
by which time I had vanished down a corridor.