Long Peopleme Poems
Long Peopleme Poems. Below are the most popular long Peopleme by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Peopleme poems by poem length and keyword.
He was cocky, he was bold
His views, they left me cold
And I thought he was just another jock
He was black and I was white
But there was something wasn’t right
Still I held on to my views like a rock
He began to gain some fame
He even changed his name
I thought I’d love to see him fall
When he refused to serve
I said he had a lot of nerve
He was wrong about his stand and that was all
He was a threat, becoming an idol
So they took away his title
And I began to wonder about this man
Was I wrong in what I perceive
When you stand up for what you believe
Was it true that I was becoming a fan
He reclaimed the title without fear
Each time he’d win I’d jump and cheer
There was more to him than met the eye
If there was one person I would have to choose
Who helped me accept opposing views
Then he would be the reason why
For “The Greatest”
A purple bracelet made of beads
i found in my small box chest
while holding it only your name pops in mind
trying to figure how i feel inside.
A purple bracelet you handed me
afraid to accept i'm counting from 1 to 3
back in 6th grade can't figure the feelings
infatuation or first love, you don't tell me either.
A purple bracelet i'm afraid to wear
i just keep it, for what's reason?
it doesn't matter it's been a long time,
for the past years we both forgotten.
The purple bracelet you gave me,
it doesn't fit me anymore but i'm glad
remembering we became close
contrary of what we are now.
A waste of time! what am i doing?
reminiscing the past is not my intention
but cleaning my closet, take away wastes
and this purple bracelet... i should keep.
We live in the Patch, our own little town
Got a grocery store and three bars
We got a row of shanties, company owned
Ain’t got much space to park our cars
Yous guys got it made so don’t be complainin’
Workin’ out in all that sunshine
We gotta load 16 tons to make a livin’
Can’t breathe too good down in the mine.
We ain’t doin’ too bad from pay to pay
Barely make the bills and no damn more
Ernie was right when he sang that song
About owin’ our soul to the company store.
Got me a couple of kids and a good woman
Wednesday afternoon and Sundays I get some rest
Not much pay, but a honest days work
Livin’ in America, we sure are blessed.
Billy was hurt over in number eleven
Ain’t gonna make it in to work today
Gotta stop over and see him before I go in
Check on his kids, make sure they’re okay
Gotta get goin’ now, give me a hug
Gonna stop for a few on my way home too
Take Billy over some of your fried chicken
Ask Mary if there’s anything else we can do.
Livin’ in the Patch, not much changes
Got good neighbors and a place to lay your head
Work hard, play hard and damn proud of it
We sleep pretty good when we go to bed.
The day was hot and dry
I lifted my head but didn’t know why
Terror had me in its grasp
Around me lay innumerable traps
This age old land of mine
For it I had to pay a fine
The jungle I grew up in
Am labelled a thief therein
Law stands before me with a book
Taking of forest produce makes me a crook
Forced to take a debt from them
Now firmly under their sinister scheme
Behind bars is the place for me
Unless the officer likes my lady
Inspired by the Tribals of India. These people are continuously exploited for living a
simple and natural life. They only want to be left alone. The officers exploit their
women and are forever ready to put them behind bars.
By the end of August or early September,
I'll be handed a pink slip, to keep my sanity:
I must be a quick thinker to help me see clearer;
many plans scribbled on my lineless pad:
good fortune and willingness are needed on my path,
and wouldn't this be the harshest test?
Here's my chance to try something new,
to grab the first thing which comes into view;
and stubborn and headstrong as I am, with this unchangeable vanity,
where the thoughts of uncertainty would lead me?
Expanding my horizons into the furthest blue,
sticking to impossible tasks and repeating the mistakes I can't undo;
sharing my concept with someone with a great insight,
should ease my worries and accomplish much!
Suggestions and hints, to advance into my endeavors,
I'll take from the literary greats and their struggles will entwin mine;
and reading successful stories of published poets and novelists,
will entice my excitement and show me that positivel sign!
Gather friends and let's discuss this matter further with sincere esteem,
your advice will bring a breath of fresh air to a stale room,
come and rescue me from the pit I have fallen into;
lay out your ideas and draw the map from which I will depart,
the longest jeourney I am willing and able to take,
despite the unseen perils, wonders and probable heartbreaks!
Who wouldn't follow his vocation and turn it into a most unbelievable dream?
Besides, being unrealistic and skeptical: I am expanding my horizons!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
My life is an open book, not that it's all that interesting really.
It just doesn't concern me what the world may think about me.
One can ask me anything at all about yours truly
and I'd answer all about myself very freely and honestly,
but there may be times when I may come off as a hypocrite.
One might ask me a question whereupon I'll appear very evasive.
" It's too lengthy and too complicated to talk about it,"
is not an uncommon response that I sometimes reply with.
Most likely you've touched on a subject that has brought back to me
very tragic, sorrowful, painful memories.
I've been through all that crap once and once was more than enough for me.
To answer your question would force me to relive it again and that I will not appease,
but I never end my reply with, "I don't want to talk about it."
I end with, "l'lI let you know one day if you happen to be truly interested,"
if you're still then interested you will receive an email from me as quick as a wink.
Subject: In Reference To Your Question. Message: Click On This Link >.
One of the benefits I receive from writing poetry
is that my words are posted on the Internet for all to read,
so whenever anyone asks me a question that may disturb me
and stir up all my dormant feelings within me from tragedy,
I answer their question by providing them a link to my poetry
that touches on the subject that the individual had asked of me.
Their question gets answered hopefully
and I didn't have to relive another episode of my life's tragedy
by having to explain it all again vocally.
However, once again I declare that my life is an open book.
It's posted all over the Internet and the world is free to have a look.
I was trudging with deep thirst amid scorching sand dunes,
when suddenly the desert wind
hurled me against an ancient tomb;
and as the swivel door swiftly opened, my fear increased.
What was this mysterious, mystic place...
beneath one of the Great Pyramids
embellished by massive sphinxes?
Why did the Egyptians believe in after-life?
Scary mummies in long, beautiful
hand-painted sarcophaguses appeared,
and the foul smell induced more dread
than an imminent vomit...I screamed!
And into that labyrinth of adorned walls,
I couldn't find an exit...painted faces
and sacrificial eyes hunted me all the while...
was I going to be their next victim?
I heard chariots wheels screech...
they were coming for me, I panicked,
a pang pierced my chest encroached by hands...
and glancing at those mystical frescoes, I fled!
And running faster than a tiger, trying to catch my heavy breath,
I collapsed into the coldest corner crying out,"God, please help me!"....
No human voice echoed but mine in the hallways of the Pyramid;
how would I have been been able to combat anxiety, fear or even death?
I found myself by the tomb of Tutankhamun's,
he didn't seem dead, but vividly alive and well...
and he kindly smiled, handing me his scarabe necklace...
saying, "Take it and end the curse of the robbers!"
Why didn't he punish me for disturbing his peace?
Sudden death could have been experienced by me!
What ever happened to the Anubis guarding his tomb
and treasury? Did the Pharaoh send it away to warn me?
Have you ever thought that you’ve seen to much
To ever be wide eyed again?
Can you even remember innocence?
From the before and then
Do you remember what it felt like?
When you looked at the world with hope
Do you see it as you do now?
And wonder how you cope
Do you ever wonder when you lost it?
That view of naïve bliss
Do miss those days of freedom
Of a carefree way to exist
From that time until now
I shall never be there again
My virginity of innocence
Was taken from me my friend
I look at things different now
Than I did back then
The question that plagues me now is
The loss of my innocence was when?
Was it at a certain time?
Or a specific place?
Or did the world just have a different face?
Always with questions to ponder
Always answers to be sought
Always had things figured
At least that’s what I thought
But I have come to realize
In my constant daily search
Nothing makes sense
Staring from my perch
It’s the solutions I seek
That causes me to lurch
Why then I ask myself
Waste time wondering why
Just enjoy the ride
Before you die
Eric (and sometimes not)
What a joke
What a laugh
People stressing
The overdraft
Oh my
Oh me
How much will it be?
Can I afford to pay?
Another unfair bill today?
Such is the way of the corporate ladder
To send paper with numbers
In order to get fatter
I laugh at your effort
To rob me long distance
Instead I smirk
And return resistance
It seems odd to me
That people fret
Like they’ll ever collect
Is what I bet
I wait for it all to collapse
For corporate America
To fall into relapse
Then look at the greed
And what they have brought
How much blood from a stone?
Is my thought
I love to laugh at these greedy misguided fools
Sending paper numbers
To obedient tools
When they send you pictures of numbers
Send them pictures of money
And laugh, laugh, laugh………..
Eric (and sometimes not)
I've seen her there, most every day, rocking on the old front porch
She lives alone, I've often heard....she must get lonely on her perch
She watches the world passing her by...seeing her there,...just makes me sigh...
Sometimes I'm on my way to town, ...sometimes on my way to church
She's called out a word...inviting me in, ....but who has the time...? I'll just grin...
And wave a little....and then...I'll pretend I hadn't heard....is that so unheard of??
Well! Good grief....you see....I have things to do...important dates!!
Too much to do that cannot wait!!
If I were to hesitate...even for a minute...walk through her gate
Well...heavens to Betsy!! I might be late!!...
No...I couldn't stop.....! But I'll wave and smile....For heaven's sake!!
No time on my hands, to simply fritter away!
So I pass on by..don't miss a step....Don't look back, feeling no regrets!
It's my day's journey...I really must scurry...I hurry away, not a backwards glance
Perhaps another day...then, we'll see......Perhaps another chance, when I'm free...
But then....oh dear, how would I know, you see, life passed her by,
And when it was over....well....."that was that!"
But my ears still ring out...from her calling me "Please come in and sit a spell"....
Well.....I must not dwell...what is past is past...
Yet......I don't understand....what's the matter with people??
You see.....I've been rather unwell.....under the weather....Oh, ...it's a bother!
I'm too sick to go out, ...too sick to walk....but no one will stop to sit and talk
What's the matter with people??? Don't they care??
I called out to a friend...but she went on her way....she passed on by
Like I wasn't there....
Why doesn't anyone care??????
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Inspired by Paula's word contest "PASS"