Long Plymouth Poems

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


Imminent Botox Injection Treatment

Potential cause célèbre dermatological solution
to stem palmar hyperhidrosis,
which medical break thru a last ditch effort
if Glycopyrrolate ineffective
to stave off sweaty hands.

Venerable Doctor Harold Milstein
an acclaimed dermatologist
possesses over 45 years
experience with Dermatologic Care,
Cosmetic Dermatology, and
Mohs Surgery than other specialists in his area.

Since adolescence (mine)
yours truly disabled
by aforementioned physiological symptoms,
just recently sought treatment
concerning above identified malady
with same specialist

who removed prominent benign moles
(mostly peppered shoulders to lower back,
whereby spouse used
colored indelible marker
to play connect the dots).

Initially yours truly underwent
regarding mole removal,
(albeit surgical excision)
herewith another free plug

courtesy Marlene J. Mash Associates
545 West Germantown Pike #100,
Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania 19462
approximately two dozens
earth orbitz round the sun ago.

State of the art biomedical, gastrointestinal
pharmacological, et cetera treatments
to allow, enable, and provide
relief from significant health issues
that plagued one mortal man

who feels grateful (before being dead)
Medicare picks up tab
what would otherwise be exorbitant costs
if yours truly (me)
lacked health insurance.

After very recent passing of dear ole dad
he provided more than basic needs,
when this here reasonably rhyming
gadabout goodfella just a lad
though yes..., when I happened

to slough off responsibility,
he (and mama, she be gone
to netherlands for ages)
father quick to exhibit anger mad

as a raging bull,
but in all respects
our well being (his dependents in general,
plus Georgie the
mixed breed Boxer/Dalmation
and Twinkles the cat
gave top notch priority
to kit and caboodle.


Premium Member We Must Decide

We Must Decide
By Franklin Price
4/14/2017

We must decide just who we are - Not who we have become
Our Christian values under foot - As in the place that we came from
As persecuted Christians - Chose to sail to get away
To choose how we would worship - A place of freedom we could stay

We landed in Virginia - Then again at Plymouth Rock
Suffered much for our beliefs – The natives helped the flock
 We grew in population - Built on ways that we believed
Villages were small and closed - Change begrudgingly received

Most of us were English – Christians mostly but in name
Other than belief in Christ - Little else was quite the same
To define the rules for us - Founding fathers would not quit
They penned the Constitution - Never was  the likes of it

Freedom for all people - To believe in what we thought
Not be persecuted for it - Not be put away if caught
There would be no royalty - To dictate who we are
Government by the people - Not a king, a queen or czar

They put in checks and balances – Laws for this disagreeing pack
If you don't support the Constitution - Get out and don't come back

Let's thank Japan for who we are – What we're about today
They brought us into World War two – Forced us not to stay away
Pulled Americans together – To defeat the enemy
Who wanted to control the world -  Overcome democracy

Americans did all we could – Left our isolated place
And working with our allies – Put world leadership in place
When the war was over – We thought we were the king
Refer to the Constitution – To see that's not this country's thing

If we have religious rights – All others should have too
We cannot decide for them – As they cannot for you
Not our job to rule the world – With a global U.S. coups
Let's take care of our country first – It's the least that we should do
Form: Rhyme

Late Morning Today February 17 2021

Late morning today (February 17, 2021)

I (accompanied by missus)
drove to bed bath and beyond
Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania
off Chemical Road location for naught.

After arriving
at said destination alas and alack
with intent to purchase:
ZeroWater®
10-Cup Ready Pour™ Pitcher - $17.50
and ZeroWater®

4-Pack Replacement Filters - $39.99
(we discovered aforementioned store shuttered)
both of us essentially undertook round trip
to Schwenksville and back
without rhyme nor reason.

Subsequently, an idea dawned
(came to mind) to craft a poem
with immediate insight
since yours truly likes to write.

Our eldest daughter, an engineering ace,
(who lives in Oakland, California,
and conveniently employed to chase
the buck courtesy remote technology
within walls of her dwelling place
by B-corp) frequently politely reminds us

to purchase environmentally friendly product
to help sustain earthly creatures
besides human race
who about bajillion years from now
will vanish without a trace.

She nsync with youngest offspring,
(a lovely lass awaiting
her prince charming
ah...if only her fantasy
to marry available bachelor
singer constituting the
British band One Direction, -
would be dream come true)

insync with alluded to first born
unwittingly contribute immense happiness,
whereby meaning of life,
liberty and pursuit of happiness
doth resonate
despite both adorable girls,
(an unbiased opinion courtesy their papa)
in Oakland, California
and Bend, Oregon respectively.

Eco-friendly ethics
informed courtesy older sister eons ago,
she (Amelie Beth) hypersensitivity,
a contemplative introverted bro
who as a socially withdrawn boy
rather puny and scrawny body
standing with knobby knees
unknowingly foretold skeletal escrow,

viz arms akimbo point each elbow
perpendicular while moving to and fro
geeky and nerdy
improvisational dance intro
exhibiting nonconformist Judeo
spontaneous boyish schtick
just before onset anorexia nervosa manifesto.
Form: Rhyme

Anti Ode To Voices of Hate and Propaganda



                   Tlaid like Rash' o stabbings, 
your voice hisses from your podium of Hell. 
Blah blah blabbing.
A one sided Tale, of convenient scapegoats. 
The goats of your usual slaughter of throat. 
No empathy, only agenda and love's Apathy. 

Plymouth Rock striking meteors of cowardly i.e.d. 
Trespassers, stowaways, meteors of 
shipwreck, leaving a system of a down. 
To play ruins in the paths of the Trodden, 
the innocent.

No shining fullness of humanity, 
no Motherly natal moon of peace. 
You are not Freedom Fighters.
You just want to instill your own brand of Tyranny.

Your fool's gold mummification factory of 
silenced lips entombed.
Folded arms, guarding pieces of eight, 
paid Nazis of Persian purse and Curses 
and Nile hate swarm proxies. 
Mars in Scorpio in your Midheaven  
conjunct Lucifer's Janus Moon. 
Talking out two sides of the mouth 
while it's full of bread dipped in the blood leaven of deception and feed us its wounds.
Then turn to us as Satellites at High Noon. 
Fades wisped to darkness and intolerant gloom. 

Those who enslave are at it again. 
Same bull, different room of 
a Political Whorehouse Saloon. 
No condemnation of evil deeds. 
At your corner 
of One Way on a Two Way Street, Wash DC. 
No mention of what doesn't serve 
your Oath of Hypocrisy. 

Obviously we all have evil Leaders, 
responsible for atrocity, stonings. 
Some just do not condemn the slaughter 
of the innocent in their droning. 

Crickets, if the shoe was on the other foot, 
you'd use it to squash Christians 
(Palestinians and Israeli alike) 
as you already do and using your empathy 
to the Refugeed "insects of inconvenience" 
in convenient (on the heels of) 
residual varnished residue, only just, their ruins, 
for shielding your truth.
Form: Other

Premium Member My Father’s Car

Blown by Atlantic wind and sail in chains 
        once were ragged souls like chattels branded -
from the Guinea Coast to old Port of Spain
            African herdsmen on slave ships landed.

From my father’s car I saw the canefields 
       where slaves cut from cyan-see to cyah-see.
Where broken men of burden stooped and kneeled
      my father would stop to cut cane for me.

Now broke are those fetters of time and fate 
               in that dark and soulless age of tyranny,
and I in old plantation, horse ranch and estate
        on his fold-out walking stick seat sat his knee.

In its powerdrive push-button auto as a lad
               I rode the hills and streets of old Trinidad -
in that big pale grey Plymouth Fury I swear
    I saw ghosts of the mills and the ploughshare.


            Written: December 2009
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member My Old Friend Gettysburg

My old friend Gettysburg came to visit me tonight.                                       
He indicated that he has been troubled about many things.                   
He begins without hesitation to speak to me with passionate expressions.      He said that he was feeling both patriotism and pride but also consternation.   He thought about how different '4th of July' celebrations might be this year.

He is whispering to me about both freedom and sovereignty.
He is shouting to me in tears about divisiveness and unity.
He tells me of his being ripped apart in every section and direction.
His north is pulling; his south is pushing; his east and west are frozen.
His total being is being disconnected; his pain is unbearably excruciating.

He ponders the complexity of such beauty being on the brink of destruction.
He remembers the Mayflower, Plymouth Rock, and the Boston Tea Party.
Presently, when thinking about Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, he weeps.
He locks his eyes to mine and questions, "Whatever happened to the love of life, love of family, love of neighbor, love of the church, love of country?"

Gettysburg believes in America and thinks we will find our way forward.
He reflects on the Declaration of Independence and the many sacrifices.
The Preamble to the Constitution is weighing heavily on his confused mind.
He prays that the dream doesn't die, and he rejects any nightmarish thoughts.
Gettysburg believes in God, and that He will turn the tides and calm the sea.

He utters his last words to me by quoting the Preamble to the Constitution of the USA. "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of ...

061520PS

Premium Member Dad's Dodge

Dad began work pushing a broom at the Chrysler Corporation.
A paltry fifty-five cents an hour was his compensation!
'Twas during the Great Depression when times were really hard.
He was elated to get the job and held Chrysler in high regard!

Dad was a "Chrysler" man thro' and thro' and for his "wheels",
Always owned an assortment of Plymouth and Dodge automobiles.
The one I recall as a lad was a Dodge, a nineteen thirty-five.
It was in this car that my patient Pa taught me how to drive!

Brand spanking new it cost Pa six hundred forty-five bucks.
It was touted as the latest and greatest, an auto car deluxe!
The gearshift and dimmer switch were located on the floor.
To indicate a turn or stop, you hung your arm out the door!

The spare tire was on the trunk with a ram's head on the hood.
It was the sharpest vehicle in all that Hoosier neighborhood!
A feature was the new leaf springs, providing a smoother ride.
He kept her washed and waxed - 'twas truly his joy and pride!

The old Dodge survived World War Two, bald tires and all.
It took us where we needed to go and would seldom ever stall.
It served us for nigh on fifteen years 'til, alas, she died.
('Tis still told in family lore that my Pa broke down and cried!)

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (©  All Rights Reserved)
Form: Rhyme

A Turkey Protests the Pilgrims's Feast

A wandering duck met a male turkey
at Plymouth Harbor in late October,
the exact spot where the Pilgrims landed,
and reflecting on the lost freedom of turkeys,
" Look, not far from here turkeys roamed freely! "
The turkey exclaimed. " They were looking for
mates and gobbled, never expected 
to wind up on all American tables!" 

The sensitive duck's eyes filled up with tears,
then the turkey with bronze-green feathers
that had a beautiful luster of iridescence
continued his conversation with bitter words,
" The Pilgrims wanted to thank God for His generosity
and slaughtered the first turkey, not the sacrificial lamb
as the Hebrews did, no those Pilgrims from England
are to blame for the death of millions of our kind! "
I admire the Italians soldiers who ate pasta and drank wine,
who bravely fought in the Civil War and while
they spoke a different language, their hand
never captured a defenseless, gobbling turkey! "
Form: Rhyme

A Noteworthy Ship Poetry Contest Rjl

Entered to take part
In Robert James Liguori
A noteworthy ship poetry Contest
Wednesday
27th October 2021


From Liverpool 
The Port of Empire

He came was born and wanted
away and out from that moment 
on

And at the tender age of 16
he enlisted in the Royal Navy

In search of adventure on the high sea

A good looking boy with a full head
of hair

Wanting to be anywhere elsewhere but home

Write and send postcards from every
port he docked

Assigned thereafter posted to Plymouth

To sail board the noteworthy ship

H.M.S Cavalier 

Gerard Vincent Flaherty

Rank Stocker Petty Officer

Set sail for the 4 corner of the earth

I've seen the pictures he later regaled
the tales with jolly gusto

And now to me as definitely was to him

That most noteworthy of Ship is 
currently dry docked in Chatham
Kent

Buy yet sadly he did not get to see 
for himself as taken some year's
earlier by cancer was his final fate
to be

Not so much a noble sailor's end
sinking beside his company selflessly
protecting saving other's lives

Terminating at Davy Jones locker
to sleep and rest peacefully aboard
a sea bed hammock taking in tots
of rum rations

So unfortunately it was up to i
my mother and sister to go and 
see it 

Not so much for ourselves but the
eye's of he and we're luckily enough
to be blessed welcomed to step onboard

I only wish my father had lived long
enough to witness it for himself

My mind boggles at the very thought
of just how much happiness it would
have brought him

And why of all the ship's in all the
world that have ever sailed

H.M.S Cavalier is the most titanic
noteworthy unparalleled Ship

My Father's Ship 
Heart and Soul

A Friend Named John

My dear friend John is a peaceful,
humble and noble giant,
with a red badge of courage.

So, what does God want him to do?

In the historical past,
The slaves needed skills to
survive in the new world.

“They cursed the bread, because
They could not eat the meat.”

Somehow, God provides our daily bread,
And He still provides.

Did you hear the great news?

The mighty African drumbeats are speaking
colorful rhythms throughout the villages.
The drums are singing about freedom for
our brothers and sisters in bondage.

Remember, there is only one God, and
He provides the golden battle shield.
Yes, God is the victory, delivering us from evil.

Well, a new day is coming, and we will stand
together on God’s Plymouth Rock.
He is the steady hand, guiding us like a compass,
through a quiet storm.

Still, God is everlasting, because He is the
beginning and the end.
God is the water that we thirst
He is the air for our soul to breathe
God is the answer to our prayers

My friend John, put your trust in God,
and let God take care of the residue.

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