Long Observed Poems
Long Observed Poems. Below are the most popular long Observed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Observed poems by poem length and keyword.
I never met but always appreciated Diane.
Through the media, I knew her first as a politician.
From my perspective, I knew her later as a good lady.
I observed the manner of her poise and her calmness.
It wasn't her politics that I admired, but her person
that I came to respect.
I was a new resident in her beautiful city,
not there long enough to know of their problems.
But it was soon clear to me that Diane was in tune
with both the politics and the people of her city.
Mayor, supervisor, policeman, People's Temple, and Jim Jones;
Enough headline news to cause anyone's head to both ache and spin.
How would one navigate all this in a season of festivity and Thanksgiving?
I was soon to learn that Diane was well equipped for the task of calming
the storm of tragedy wreaking havoc on the people of her city by the bay.
Red state, blue state, or sanctuary city had absolutely no relevancy.
She became the first female supervisor in SF in 1969 and later its first
female mayor in 1978. She would later fail in her attempt at becoming
governor of California but succeed in becoming its first female Senator.
I am aware of her 'many firsts, her many years of service as a Senator,
and the many committees she chaired. One of the greatest lessons in life
is learning how to separate people from their politics. At a distance, I think that I learned it best from Diane.
What I remember most about Diane Feinstein and have long treasured in my heart is the way she controlled and mastered her emotions, and how she served as a conduit to release the tranquility I felt in a time of confusion as a newcomer to the city of San Francisco. I believe that this was a 'God send'.
seafarers’ paradise
seven men drowned
when a ship sank under gigantic waves
seven weeks later
they appeared on the Island of Saragossa
where singing shanty is forbidden
but seaweed is served in 7 variations
by a female ship cook, the only woman
who had been welcomed
as mess-maid was not proper sailors
as for the dead they are soaking wet
it is what keep then going, and lives in caves
lit up by electric eel and blue sea stars
the carpenter has added shelves.
strict ranks are observed, the skippers have
the biggest cave, in a smaller cave, the chief steward
drink whisky from a flask that fills itself up
insist he is an officer, is in conflict with everyone.
since the island is timeless, no one knows or care
whether it is forenoon or afternoon
they listen to the cook’s bell, especially if curry is served
when it is summer, they swim with dolphins.
The first lesson learned from a Chihuahua
was that I must please God at all cost.
I had no idea there would be a second lesson.
This time the Chihuahua was not talking by
barking.
The master has two areas they allow him to freely
roam, and the other areas are off limits. Gates
are installed in each area. But like we often say,
"Boys will be boys". Well, it's also true that 'dogs
will be dogs'. In other words, they will break rules
whenever they can.
On the same day of my first lesson, there was yet
another lesson from the Chihuahua. I observed him
attempting to leap over the gate in his master's
bedroom. He leaped once and then twice before he sat
for a while and began to analyze the gate, its size
and height. He was focusing on the relativity of his
leaping ability to the dimensions of the gate. He leaped
again, but failed. The Chihuahua soon learned that his
master was smarter than he and decided to stay put.
Yet again, God spoke to me through a Chihuahua by way
of his leaping legs. The message was crystal clear.
Just like the Chihuahua keeps trying to leap over
the gate and fails, but keeps trying. Just like
the Chihuahua who pauses, ceases, analyzes, scans
the dimensions, gathers data; and once again, takes
a giant leap and fails, but keeps trying. In like
manner, I must keep listening, looking, focusing.
I must not worry about winning and losing, about
success or failure. I must trust, and when I sense
that the timing is right, take the giant leap, even
if the conventional wisdom and data say that I will
never clear that gate.
How do you like that? There I was engaged in the
business of cleaning a client's home who had a
Chihuahua who speaks to humans by barking and
leaping. Who would have thunk it? What will
God think of next?
Written030708;PosttoPS091422
ILLUSION:
The focality of planned visual aspect,
Always birth illusionary conclusion,
Because attractive package conceals an abject;
Wretchedness nicely hidden behind perfection,
Deep down the heart is full of sadness.
But a cheerful face is being expressed through discretion,
Intended to cover a state of affairs and it's subject,
So he don't pass away with regard to stigmatization.
He's really fighting to be self-motivated,
As he's locked up in a room of self-debasement.
Spectators are premising on merely observed facet,
By drawing down curtains based on perspective analysis,
With regard to optical illusion and a mindset.
And just because He steps out with confidence,
His defect is far from nakedness.
But meanwhile, he's batting psychological unwellness.
No more does he have anyone trusted to tell his story,
So he keeps himself hooked to the mirror of his own feeling.
Those he trusted kept discarding his glory,
Solely by publicly washing his filthy linen;
Afterwards adorned him with shame,
And also tagged him with a bad name.
It was left for them to crucify him as their ballgame.
But now wisdom is teaching him to dusguise his aim,
In order not to have himself once again blamed.
@ANDERSON WALKINGSHOES
You say you dislike me because my political party is different.
I say the American way is the freedom to choose, even if I lose.
I say the American way is that every American should have their say.
You say with accusations in a sense of panic, "How did we get here?"
I say in a sense of hope and promise, "There are greener pastures just ahead'. You say that I am different, and that I should return to where I came from. I say that if every American returned to where they came from, there would be no America. I say that if I should leave, you will fall short of all that you could become. You say that my accent is too hard to understand, and that I am less bright. I say that I wish your future to be bright, and that you will rise to new heights, and that your life will be a delight.
You say that you are superior and I, inferior; that I am wrong and you, right.
I say that you are free to believe as you wish; and your story, you should write. You say that my poetry is flat, and you wage an attack against the meaning of me. I say that God has a purpose for all of us to be ourselves, expressive, open, loving, and free.
You say this, and I say that, but the greatest question for you and me is, "What did God say?" Last year, I observed the total demolition of a fast-food restaurant and a big sign-posting by them. The sign indicated in very large print that they were coming back BOLDER, BIGGER, AND BETTER. I attest to the fact that they did rebuild and came back BOLDER AND BIGGER, but due to COVID-19 in early 2020, we have yet to see if they will be BETTER. So it is that 'the jury is still out', and only history will report the results of "I Say, You Say".
110220PSCtest, Judged By A Jury Of Your Peers, Mark Koplin
In a bygone America the First Amendment
Was as sacred as a Biblical Commandment:
"I disagree with what you say,
But your right to say it,
I'll defend to the death"--
Rang out the shibboleth.
Disagreements and disputes
Were all the rage;
Discussion, debate, and discourse
Took center-stage.
From Lincoln-Douglas down through Kennedy-Nixon,
Our leaders warred
With eloquent words
Instead of with swords...
...But now there's precious little freedom of speech,
Political corretness is what academies preach.
"Sexist," "Racist," "Fascist," they all screech;
'My way or the highway,' is what they teach.
'Twas a noble idea once,
Was Freedom of speech:
Today observed less in the act
Than in the breach.
In the still of the night the orange headed ground thrush perched on a tree outside, calls out in earnest beseeching his mate to join him in intimate embrace. A perfect interruption as a wake up call suitably timed for meditation! As though by telepathy, the thrush calms down to only occasionally resume its melody in subdued tones, nudging us deeper inwards. As observer & observed thus invisibly tango, attention distilled with the purity of agendaless resonance with the soundless throb of divine magnetism filtered by the heavenly moonlight, the perfume of divinity osmotically percolates into each pore of form. We vaporise!
Still not the stillness
Let now stillness still our being
As bliss vivifying
On Wednesday,
May 13, 2026,
Donald Trump
arrived in
Beijing.
And the world
felt different.
For the China of yesterday
is no longer
the China of today.
When Trump
stepped upon Chinese soil,
the atmosphere shifted.
It was as though
he had entered
another civilization.
A nation
built with patience.
A place
that resembled paradise
through discipline
and order.
He was welcomed
like the prodigal son
returning
after wandering too long.
And as he walked
through the streets of Beijing,
he witnessed beauty
that could touch the soul—
but not always
the ego of powerful men.
I observed something strange.
Despite the suspicion
between nations,
the Chinese people
remained humble.
Quiet in manner.
Measured in speech.
For in Chinese culture,
humility is not weakness.
It is wisdom.
A virtue shaped
by the teachings of
Confucius
and the silence
of Daoist thought.
There,
arrogance is restrained.
And self-discipline
is honored.
In China,
hard work
is not merely a choice.
It is survival.
It is duty.
It is national spirit.
And discipline—
is carved deeply
into the soul
of the people.
Not for appearance,
but for endurance.
For stability.
For the future.
America seeks greatness.
China prepares for it
patiently.
One builds influence
through noise.
The other—
through time.
And if Trump
is wise enough,
he will humble himself
before history humbles him.
He may yet learn
something valuable
to carry back
to America.
Perhaps then,
greatness will mean
more than power.
Perhaps then,
when China builds,
America
will no longer feel compelled
to destroy.
For civilizations
do not survive
through pride alone.
They survive
through wisdom.
A decade here,
I smell the the fragrance of the dwelt air.
I am going to miss this refuge
Crying became a task, huge.
I wish not to
Though I wanted to.
For the happiness I found
Had silenced my crying sound.
I wish to take this beauty
Which my eyes observed as a duty.
I wish to take the pure water
Which soothes and makes better.
I wish I take this soft sand
That greases hope on my hand.
My bid is to take a thing
That may read everything.
As I leave this hope full place
Just in case....just in case...
I need to remember
The land that took me a member.
The ship is now leaving with a loud clamor
I relished the comfort of humor.
In my hand... I took the sand
To rhyme my saving Island.
I would like a little candy dish on my head please, the sow said.
We filed past, trying to ignore the sweet spectacle on her head.
She is always trying for extra attention hissed old goose Jed.
Maybe she needs a bit more TLC, observed Beau a chowder head.
I am tired of Old Sow getting all of the attention every time!
She is so grouchy and grumpy, not any friend of mine.
Maybe she needs a person to issue friendship and be kind.
Why don’t we invite her to the restaurant to dine?
Would she share that peppermint stick or chocolate mint? Asked Lee.
He is all about being fair, fighting with anyone who dares disagree.
The sow heard them speaking of her and puffed up with pride.
But she did not want to share her candy when they got inside.