Long Pineda Poems
Long Pineda Poems. Below are the most popular long Pineda by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pineda poems by poem length and keyword.
Walmart
by Steven Pineda
There is a place that I work at that is called Walmart. I get ready everyday just to go to work for the evil corporation of slave drivers. The managers there are like giants holding whips slashing you and telling you to do there bidding. You do get a break ever two hrs but the water they give you is gasoline and is nasty and they shackle you to the store so you will not try to escape and run for your life. I stand at the register which is an evil machine that sticks its claws into you and doesn't allow you to move till you feed it money. And the thing you should be scared of is the almighty customer which you have to bow down to and do what ever they say. As I stand there waiting for them to come with all there nasty goodies their going to buy I tremble because I can hear the sound of their foot steps which is like nails on a chalk bored screeching towards you. If they choose you and go to your line beware for there are not forgiving and will throw you to the fire at a given chance. The first customers comes towards me and with whips starts hitting me and telling me to move faster to ring up there items so they can go home and dwell in they cave they came from. Hands hurting, Fingers bleeding this is the life of a cashier. At the end of the day I reach the doors and something magical happens I grow my wings back and fly home to enjoy myself. Then in return I become the customer and make another cashier bow down to me.
Corpus Christi in the southern region of the United States
Named by a Spanish explorer, Alonso Álvarez de Pineda, and mates.
As he discovered the lush semitropical bay, an American city
on the Western Texas coast; Christian feast day of Corpus Christi.
The city’s name means, body of Christ; a place of my birth,
A coastal city in the biggest state of Texas on this earth.
Corpus Christi of North America, is known as the "Bird Capital,"
A city that has a humid subtropical climate, to some very unvital.
North America a country of the free and the brave;
Fifty states surrounded by an ocean coastal waves that voices rave.
Beaches almost paradise that brings joy, semblance of normalcy;
Just feels like one can breathe from all the abnormalcy.
In time for a very hot, very immunized summer rhythm,
Oceanside of much-needed thrilling escapism.
With cold drinks, toes scrunch in the sand;
In a beach day with a lot of laughter and getting tanned.
5/31/2023
'Glorifying your birthplace/country through poetry
If Your Birthplace-country was a poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Give me a Reason
By
Steven Pineda
Happiness through a bottle, when lifes to hard to swallow.
Hopelessness, full of depression, and a hint of anxiety eating at my soul.
Theres no meaning, only bad decisions, with no mistakes.
Having the power to walk on water, but no land ever in sight.
Never hungry, always filled with nausea, daydreaming to stay alive.
Beauty is like gold, but every day I grow old.
Always alone in a house, the silence moves to be seen,
The only sound I really hear is the devils sitting at opposite shoulders.
No angels here.
No friends, no family, only acquaintances feeding on me,
Like a vulture on a deer hit from a car.
Out on the street they stare, they judge, like shadow less figures
Wanting my soul!!
When will I see my true calling? Is it to dare to ask,
To be or not to be?
My mind is always a constant war raging, it divides oceans, and
Makes world collide! Iam lost.
The pills I take keep me sane.
Sometimes sleeping is the closes thing to serenity, which
Is DEATH.
Happiness through a bottle, when lifes to hard to swallow.
Creeping From the Light
By Steven Pineda
Tears roll from my face! Full of guilt and ashamed from the world
I turn my head from the light and walk into the darkness
I’m alone! Only god feels my pain and worry
What have I become? Nothing just an empty shell with a heart that bleeds black and beats for no reason
I dream of happiness and friendship but when will it come?
Satan has me by the bottle!
My only true felling of living is from the burning in my stomach from the poison I consume
It fills the void and for a moment I feel serenity but its just a glimpse
I need more and more of Satans remedy!
When will it end? Death is really the only way out
Unless my savior will take me into the light and show me the right path
Such a warm idea please help me before my addiction takes me away!
I wrote this poem because Iam a recovering alcoholic and it seems like I cant get away from drinking I turn to it for anything thing I cant deal with in life. But one day I will escape this evil addiction. Thank you all for reading this little piece of my mind.
Till death do me apart
by Steven Pineda
“This one goes out to the ones that fall in Love”
The heart stitched from two pieces.
Still beating but with no meaning.
The lonelyness comes in with the night like a monster hiding under my bed feeding on my empty soul.
I long for love and attention.
The bed is like a cold tomb just me laying in the grave no one else just me.
Its cold dark no warmth the body shrivels and awaits a companion to take me into the sunlight to be warmed.
The butterfly's have left or died in my stomach I feel just emptiness.
I fein the need to catch the high of being loved and comforted by someone who needs me.
I wish I wasnt forgotten.
My best friend greets me with nausea and the fear of dying alone.
Where is my love I need it to be revived from this lonelyness void.
I walk a path that leads no where and see the world in shades of grey.
Sometimes I await death for that will immortalize me in everybodys mind and I will be loved and not forgotten.