Long Ointments Poems

Long Ointments Poems. Below are the most popular long Ointments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ointments poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Till We'Re Dead

There’s taxes on underwear, dresses and ties,
and taxes on ointments your grandmother buys.

There’s taxes on food at your local D.Q.
and taxes on food even good for you too!

You’re taxed on most services; and you are taxed
if you get your most private areas waxed.

You’re taxed every year (it should be a crime)
on the same house and car that you bought just one time!

The plan for which all your work’s taxes went in,
when finally used, you’ll be taxed for again!

You’re taxed more for smoking! You’re taxed if you fly.
Your loved ones get taxed on your stuff when you die!

Rich brats have their loopholes and still get ahead.
But most of us won’t find relief till we’re dead.


Inspired by Carolyn Devonshire's "Taxing Times" Contest
Form: Couplet


Premium Member God Has a Reason

God’s plan has worked beautifully. 
I now know what sixteen days of pure hell feels like.
I understand more about chronic pain, and I will have more empathy than ever before.
I had no idea this was going to be my introduction 
to my summer vacation. 
God has a plan.  It is much bigger than mine, so I cannot buck it.  
This introduction to the world of pain has been a nightmare that I hope to wake up and
walk away from. Every day I say “Tomorrow I will be pain-free.” I am so ready for that.

In God’s time. Not mine.
In God’s way. Not mine.
A reminder that I am not in charge here.
That I have no say in the when or where of it at all.
I am helpless, a minion, fighting exhaustion and lack of sleep due to pain and pills.

My exhaustive efforts have in no way brought me the relief 
I thought they might.
I have used creams, salves, ointments, and I have been 
on fourteen different medications
diagnosed by seven different doctors or nurse practitioners.    

God has a reason.
I sure wonder what it is….
And when will it be satisfied?

Premium Member When Silence Speaks

When silence speaks in broken dialects, to harmonize hurt, 
I ponder, would the sky unravel synonyms for serenity, 
amidst piercing thunder that strikes through raining regrets~
upon flowers, swaying forsaken, to butterfly ballads? 

But will oblivious eyes, roaming the blackness of selfish spheres~
where prayers are abandoned as meaningless metaphors, 
ever feel the darkness we carry, when tears no longer flow in lakes with swans, to be seen? 

It is in melted muteness, we reveal realness of suppressed pain,
as childhood fears scribbled as forbidden secrets~
rewind on repeat through holographic lens of life,
mirroring bloodstained fingerprints etched across linen of chastity…

So tonight, when blue moon in my mind ascends in insomniac stillness,
listen to the sulfuric sins scattered as flashbacks of an onyx rose, 
as vandalized veins scream in helplessness,
awaiting a sculptured sunrise that bleeds balmy ointments for burnt blisters,
while I remain, in mists of misery, weaving prose,
to erase tattooed torment that stole starry symphonies within my soul. ..

Yearn For God's Plans

 "When we don't get what we yearn for, we must keep in mind that God has better things in store"
                                                 - by Poet

Sometimes life's not all that pleasant
It dishes out disappointments
Scars and wounds are ever present
That cannot be healed with ointments

We yearn for more joy, love, and peace
Afraid of what the future holds
Looking back, we live on mem'ries
Giving up hope as life unfolds

But remember, God has His plans
Far better than what we expect
Our broken lives are in His hands
Only He can make them perfect.




12.01.2021
Form: Rhyme

Unapologetic

Im not apologizing
For what you see
You know apologizing
For being me
I love my skin im in
Its beautiful and unique
From my head to my feet
I wasn't made perfect
No not me
I was created by Thee
So I sit and stare
Because I am not my hair
Im more
I am a queen walking royally on the floor
I am not sorry nor sympathetic(sympathetic)
I will not be apologetic 

No apologies necessary
No sorry
I am unique
No one can stop me
There's so much more to me
Than just a name
I am different and so many are the same
I could do different but I want to change
No need to be sympathetic
I am me
Unapologetic

Im sure everyone in life will not like me
Trust your opinion don't excite me
I just want to do better
Get things together(together)
Plan  to make it clever
I have a lot to offer
Not charging
But it will cost ya
To know 
With maturity comes growth
I am here looking at myself
Im pleased
I will do more than live 
I'll succeed
Everything I've done in life 
I'll never regret it
Im living my life unapologetic

No apologies necessary
No sorry
I am unique
No one can stop me
There's so much more to me
Than just a name
I am different and so many are the same
I could do different but I want to change
No need to be sympathetic
I am me
Unapologetic

Do  you know your worth?
Have you found your value?
Some people and things you'll want in life
Dont mean that they can have you
You are awesome
You are precious
You are the greater 
To every one lesses
You are the treasure 
In the chest
We were created by the best
That's real
Look inside yourself and heal
From pain and disappointments
Praise God now for your an ointments
And your miracles
They're coming
Its your world 
Just live it
Dont worry about others forget it
With these lyrics I spit
I hope it inspires you to not quit
Love yourself , no need to be sympathetic
Live life unapologetic 

No apologies necessary
No sorry
I am unique
No one can stop me
There's so much more to me
Than just a name
I am different and so many are the same
I could do different but I want to change
No need to be sympathetic
I am me
Unapologetic

Written by:Concetta Hardnett
12/29/2015
Form: ABC


MysticMist Eye Drops

Introducing... MysticMist™ Eye Drops! 
See the unseen. Blink into the beyond.

Are your regular eye drops leaving you… underwhelmed?
Do you yearn to gaze into the fabric of reality itself?
Well, squirt no more tears of boredom--MysticMist™ is here!

Just one drop per eye and suddenly:

You can read the thoughts of your houseplants.
Your cat’s side-eye finally makes sense (spoiler: it's judgment).
You’ll witness the ghost of your great-aunt Mabel doing the Charleston in your hallway.
And best of all? Your local barista’s aura glows depending on how strong the coffee is.

Side effects may include:

Time dilation

Spontaneous truth-seeing

Involuntary interdimensional travel

A sudden craving for kale (we’re still researching that one)

MysticMist™ -- because boring vision is so last realm.

Available wherever enchanted ointments are questionably sold.

MysticMisfits Product Line™
Coming soon to a dimension near you...

Premium Member Voodoo Curse

Never know when we converse
Whose path we’ll happen to traverse 
Can anyone really be that perverse
To willy nilly cast out a nasty curse
To chant for effects brutally adverse 
With implications bitterly diverse
An evil voodoo spell I must reverse
Boils hives and warts somehow inverse
I throw on a coat and grab my purse 
Head off to see a doctor or a nurse
In ointments and remedies I’m willing to immerse
Medical bills disburse then reimburse
I hope to feel better but I feel worse
Suspecting I may soon be leaving in a hearse
But first I’ll sing my song or write a verse
To leave my mark on this awesome universe



AP:  Honorable Mention 2020
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Ineffable Hosiery

Like a stalking hoarse,

Have endured shrewd days and night,

Like the physician ampoule,

Ready on my skin to pour.

flights from ignorance left these 

Strawberry marks,

Eyes glued on the object
 
compelled to the hard brown wooden logs  in art,

And the iron in room "G02".

Friends and enemies unrelenting 

awaits  enticement,

numberless distraction as obstacles on my path,  

beckoning to the banquet of misery, 

as this dangling reputation slowly pace along undeterred. 

ego gangs gauged and chokes to loose the prize  

avalanche of invisible darts piercing from home and abroad, 

but I, a pretty piece of flesh,

Stand aloof to watch a drama

With the ointments of the supreme being 

Within my bowels,

Those that see the seals, demand the cause,
Of quietude in this world of madness. 

As I stood aloof to watch the wretch mirth turns to mourn

Ah weary watcher, like you, I am a mere voyager,  

on the  route where the delight of the peasantry

Is wept into oblivion

There are dangerous curves 

As we advance,

there are dangling arrows, 

The old serpent is not dead, 

he hides in ambuscades

The road becomes deeper and deeper,

The shades of the precipices fall bleaker and bleaker.

The clouds gather overhead,

Doleful voices

The way hardly discernible in this  gloom

The path is  dreary,

our feet too often  wobble,

Heart ambushed by fiercest lust,

Yet, Firm stand I. 

Not in my natural element

Premium Member The Wounded Soul

The cut bashed from a hike in the woods , and the roll down the 

Hill and the wound  if not washed and dressed with the proper 

ointment will fester and have a malodorous odor. The wounded 

hiker should as duty calls rush home, head to the closet , seize 

the first aide kit, and wash the laceration conventionally as a 

nurse would. And apply ointments and gauze to avoid problems.

But left untreated one part of our anatomy is unseen and forever 

hidden of the prying eyes of X-rays, ultrasounds and surgeons on 

operating tables or exam rooms. Its even hidden from the one 

whose body it was given to before all ages. And we know this 

because the Holy Spirit has given us our soul to enrich and 

enliven us. I can talk to my soul by telling him I love him and 

listen for responses and welcoming guidance.

What can I do to my soul after years of wounding. Addiction, 

sexual exploitation, lack of nourishment of prayer to God, 

neglectful  adoration of God and degradation of my soul left 

alone imprisoned through indignity after indignity until the wound 

festers and my very being lingers on the verge. No ointment or 

gauze or bandage may be of service to the substance of my 

being. Alone the body moves as the soul watches a silent 

tear ,gradually, and slowly gushes out of the heart of mine own

eye as he lingers crying.

Those lasting words pour through my lobes as with each gasp,

reaching further inside of me for something hidden, I see a 

shadowed face tear struck and wanting, reaches and pulls me 

forward.

Premium Member Last Sigh


The woman lying on the hospital bed
Silent, intuition discerning
The last breath, last sigh, goodbye
Whispered beneath a soft cry
From the soul who she was leaving behind

She had been a daughter, a wife, a mother
She’d known sorrow, sadness, hurting
While still believing in the times
When joy filled her heart, soul and mind
With memories of pleasures so satisfying

The woman was thin, so skinny bones jabbed
At the ones who bent to hug her
Leave their mark, their kiss, there on her cheek
Where tearstains had left their reproach
Small details of a light, a life, almost concluded

She had sharp blue eyes that sparkled like stars
In the heavens after a summer storm passed by
Eyes so alive they could nearly speak
With words of passion, praying and praising
Promising to shine through the passing that was so near

The woman had taught me things I couldn’t know
Would accompany me through small wars
Second thoughts, death and divorce
Wonderful dreams and moments of pure fear
Wisdoms that would never disappoint me

She once bandaged my cuts and bruises
Applying ointments and solutions
While assuring me that I would heal in time
Just as she had mended herself
From so many hospital stays and sick days

The woman was much like a whisper
Silencing my worries with her tenderness
Breathing rich blessings through my life
With hope, faith and love that would guide
Coloring my thoughts in hues of Godly light

She was so quiet now, lying in the big bed
That seemed to consume her with crisp, white sheets
Reminding me that she was so close
To carrying wings instead of that deathlike pallor
Which revealed the moment on the horizon…

The last sigh – the one that still haunts me
With its heavy handed weakness
The feeble breath of a frail old woman
Who knew that living would soon mean
Giving up the life that had been given her…
By a heavenly Father who would soon welcome her!

The last sigh – was her spirit’s sendoff!






Your Favorite Poem Of 2021 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
November 22, 2021

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