Long Order now Poems
Long Order now Poems. Below are the most popular long Order now by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Order now poems by poem length and keyword.
A daylight daze
has been removed to a dark city
in a DC Comic.
Nations have swallowed their tongues,
have become a caped parody
of an undeclared independence.
The good are caught in the search lights,
the bullet heads and bare-faced bad
run the globe, turn the coats,
unify the unwilling sheep into lambs
until liberty itself is the aberration.
The enemy is a suit stuffed
with daemonic dandruff
reserved to snow job the helpless.
There is a new world order now
for the meek, weak and bolder.
Globalist's glob onto the taste of power.
Our super heroes are pot-bellied
and cancelled.
RoboCop is now a peace poet;
he gently rants
in a soundproof basement,
writes sonnets to forget
the already forgotten.
Tears and beers freefall
behind crumbling walls,
we must add too tight tights to the list
of all our ripping sorrows,
shake enfeebled fists
as menacing shadows gather
and we
ever willing to cast
accusing looks upon each other.
Morning Coffee
by Edmund Siejka
The night before
A soft rain had fallen
Traffic lights,
Hitting the streets
At just the right angle,
Transformed wet asphalt
Into long shiny ribbons.
Pulling into the Diner
He saw that most of the tables were taken
But there was one left
All the way in the back.
She was there
Calling all the morning customers by name
The men answering good naturedly
Their voices still heavy with sleep.
He watched as she walked
Down the narrow aisle
Every so often resting on a familiar shoulder
As she leaned over to pour another cup of coffee.
Closing his eyes
He wished she was with him
Kissing him
Her arms around his waist.
He, holding her so close to him.
When he looked up
He was alone.
Eventually she came to him
Walking all the way to the back of the diner
A mischievous smile on her face
Her impatient eyes asking
“Are you ready to order now?”
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Morning Narrative
By: Tom
3/4/2020
They claim to bring you “News that Matters”
but broadcast news only reports what sells.
Generally a negative story teaser then six straight car,
appliance, mattress or medicare commercials.
But my favorite is all these products that sell for the same price
(always for 19.95) but if I order now,
I get a second one free (just by paying a second fee)?
Each is geared to sell me something I neither want or need,
Inferior made foreign products that are broken,
often before the box they came in is hauled off.
They report on early morning house fires, water leaks,
and north side shootings in the city, (which occurs nightly).
None of which has direct bearing on most viewers
unless personally involved, live in that particular neighborhood,
or just like the added anxiety that comes with knowing.
While I am sympathetic toward the plight of others,
It isn’t “News that Matters” to ninety-five percent of the viewers.
Why do I watch it? It gives me something to whine about
as I have my two cups of coffee.
But gotta run--Coffee is made and The News is coming on!
Grrrr.
What is this strange place we find ourselves in?
Trapped in the open- we are free within.
Somehow the norms we always saw as true-
have been displaced by those we're not used to.
Some rules we follow for our country's sake
no longer held as true, replaced as fake!
A new world order- now our leaders crave-
and yet, within we know we must stay brave.
Free speech, our Bill Of Rights, grants one and all
to speak our minds on all things large and small.
But now, we're punished to express known truth
as those in charge may deem as so uncouth.
The matrix we are asked to now uphold
defies our Constitution's clear-cut mold.
And so we find our ways to follow creeds
our Constitution verifies as needs.
The underground of free-speech websites grant
safe haven for we patriots who can't
express ourselves- the truths we still adhere
without the thought of being silenced-fear.
There, lives support for spreading freedom's spin-
trapped in the open- we are free within.
There’s something in our entrails knows this dread.
You hear it scratching – that’s alarm enough.
That snorting half-suppressed, that flagstone scuffed,
a passing shadow of a massive head,
and we scent darkness, dark beyond the dead.
It hovers like Unreason. Does it know?
Canals of self-containment overflow,
like wits’ weak walls, at that approaching tread.
Our fingers, feeling for that flimsy thread,
Seem senseless, unresponsive: can’t perform
the simplest act. No order now, no norm.
The Void insists. The Hunger will be fed.
With locusts of the Labyrinth in swarm,
the mitochondria of Panic sprout and spread.
“This court is called to order now,”
declares the One with beaming brow.
Covering cherub, erstwhile great
ere judgment’s end will learn his fate.
Celestial creatures courtly bow
whom Yahweh’s holiness avow.
Cosmic conflict, Meta-Moment,
God, His infinite love must show.
The cosmic creatures wait to see,
how many angels would agree,
with Satan’s claim that surely, he,
from God’s strict rules could set them free.
God’s government, evil assailed,
but holiness and love prevailed.
Lucifer and his hellish host
were banished from their heav’nly post.
The serpent snared the holy pair
their bond with God he sought to shear.
Once Adam sinned, the die was cast,
what would God do? The angels asked.
“Man has sinned God; you can’t save him,”
declared Satan, the accuser.
“You sure cannot your justice trim,”
mankind’s sin you cannot excuse.
Justice demanded, “death to man.”
God’s answer was salvation’s plan.
Jesus would live a sinless life,
then die to save from sin and strife.
Calvary was heaven’s answer
to the accuser’s evil plan.
God’s love the chasm of sin did span,
to bring eternal life to man.
We are pelted daily on television by some brassy tout,
Hawking useless stuff we're told we can't survive without!
"Not available at your local store - the price cannot be outdone;
Order now and I'll send you two for the price of one!"
A pastime as American as baseball, barbeque and punkin pie,
Is touring yard sales! Mercy! The myriad of junk you can buy!
Neighbors hold sales displaying useless gimcrackery,
To rid themselves of whatchamacallits and other knickknackery!
Antique stores are a haven for cast-off falderol galore.
The shelves sag with stuff folks have no use for anymore.
It doesn't make sense to clutter my attic or spend my dollars,
On such stuff as antique coffee grinders or old horse collars!
Even my computer is not immune from spewing bodacious bunk,
Displaying a litany of unsolicited emails called "junk!"
Some guy in Liberia promises millions if only I'd send some cash.
Others with deals too good to be true - Lord, spare me this trash!
Alas, our house is crammed with stuff bought over the years,
At flea-markets, yard sales and from babbling auctioneers.
Most of it is useless, collects dust and takes up space.
Come to think of it, a yard sale might be my saving grace!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Nay,
You are not uncouth;
There is something I never taught you:
When my mother told me to play tennis at school,
And advised me to swim at school,
When she networked me with the best of her people;
And she hid my shame, or indeed I was profligate.
When my steptather bought
Me a marble stone chess set,
I had done well at school;
I was motivated by materials.
When I fled the good in your mother,
After listening to the whispers
Of the evil one;
Indeed, I left you exposed;
But your mother hid my shame;
Never taught you to disrespect me;
It is a tall order, now that I am back,
I am not heavy handed, time is all that it takes;
I love it when we sit in the club,
Play a game of snooker or two;
You are now like my brothers,
Standing shoulder to shoulder with me;
It is all I ever wanted;
Tears in my eyes!
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