Long Pm Poems
Long Pm Poems. Below are the most popular long Pm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pm poems by poem length and keyword.
Have You Tried My Slushie? By
Briar Rabbit
I don’t know if it brings the boys to the
yard
I’d want some time to myself
I think..
I think of angel dust
while
liberty belles call my name
cement and concrete as I leave the shrink
i am bowed down some
staring at my shoes
as I walk to my stop
I take PM dawn pills
For Purples edge,
Irony, I know
It’s bubble and burble
And bubble and grape flavor in my mouth
Chewy fat chunk of life’s worth
Like Nicki sticks to a wad
I chew it
It’s imprinted
Yummy and pink bubbles
Imprinted on the wrapper
Wrapper
Rapper
I like smoking
Smoking
Puro
Cheap menthol lights
The Inhale and the burn of the
Humo
In my nose
On the top and to the sides of my lungs
Smoking
Puro
I’ve become a Whiz Kid @ this
And I learned to become
a cowboy kid cigarette
aficionado
I watch my toes
Shoe gaze
Blow some smoke
Through my mouth and my nose
And then I breathe
I am a
Smoke Tamer
It’s purple-blue, tinged grey
Curls in form only real Wizards
Can create – Dragons, Curly cues,
and ring after ring after ring
When I’ve had my high , I pinch my cherry
Roll it between my fingers and test the
edge
Of this proto-promethean glory
Index to thumb
My butt at ease
And my feet alive
I pet a bug
Or an ambitious spider
Cupping my hands I put her back
in the bush. Apologizing
after letting her explore my fingertips
my hands, my wrist, my arm
to my elbow and then I let her know, no
gently
I cry a little inside when i do, because
she’s
curious and seeking comfort in some
shade
like I do.
Our feelings I think are
mutual
I am still..
Sticking with Fabolous
My slushie named orange and blue
Half to three quarters gone
I’m sippin it and three a party in
My pants, no ********, a wow in my
Mouth, and a brain freeze.
The brain freeze gives me a *****
Seriously.
I’m serious.
I cross my legs, lift up my hood
Arrange two rings and a cross
Pick at the crud under
My nails, maybe I should
Pull down my shades
Arrange my pant legs
Again.
Slurp my slushie.
Brain freeze and I’m turned on
again
I blush and pull down my hood
I’m still sitting at the bus shelter
I light another one,
My smoking curls,
Curling
curly-curly
curly ques..
MY smoke curls
MY smoke curls
[21/09/2015 9:18:41 PM] P.c: while i stand on this stage
talking to you and the rest of the race
you see the cloths you wear
the places you live
the friends you have
the parents who love you all
while we talk about the Syrian refugees
things get interesting
not positively but more pessimistic
seeing their houses being blown to ash
friends lost cause of cross fire
parents some there and some gone
with the shoes you even where now
some children go barefoot
some dont realize how bad this maybe
19.5 millin refugees says the most of this
i dont know what is worse
knowing this statistic
or knowing that half are children
we all see how privaleged we may be
but would you like to pay back to society
help the others in need
seeing to those who bleed
not always physically but emotionally
with tears of sadness
experience the lose of many
running from home
losing all types of cloths
not even seeing you house as home any more
cause the windows are blown out
the door on the floor
with bullet holes scattering the wall
u wonder what was home like before the war went on
now all you can recall is the herds of refugees
running across lands dangerous or safe
climbing the border to be clear
as i personally know
i got a friend in the country next door
he talks as he sees
them fleeing in and crowding the streets
there is 3/4 percent of the populations Syrian rather than Lebanese
the country is in chaos
while others around the world barely notice
we got to try
help them some how some way
imagine walking miles
with no shoes
a father or mother
or not even both
escaping the country you called home
because the war raging around has destroyed everything you got
you are only a child
younger than the double digits
surviving the storm and one of the worst wars on this earth
now once they get to their new "home"
do you think they are treated fairly
my god please, look around
they are blocked at the borders and tear gassed cause they are so many
they are rejected from all
the put tents up and sit tight
die from the cold in winter times
a new article said
" young boy at the age of 7 dies from the cold even though being held in his mothers arms"
this just makes me sick deep down inside
realizing refugees aren't treated right
even though they are exiled from home
we got to make a change"
("" In order for the light to shine so brightly,
the darkness must be present"" -Francis Bacon)
Crossing That Siberian Desert Of Lost Souls
No joy, no peace, on that darken horrendous stroll
crossing that Siberian desert of lost souls
blazing sun hit by invisible arrows shot
wherein the weak die, left as carrion to rot
so many blinded by illusions that world sends
eyes shut, never seeing what world's ill wind portends!
Mankind swims in a world that its hopes slowly burns.
Rolling the dice as Fate and Death take wicked turns.
Once as a youth such an innocent soul was I
racing forward deluded thinking I could fly
until in too deep, heart cried out from burning heat
and the ill wind's angry flames licking my bare feet
Please a refuge, I pray Lord a refuge please send
Oasis, that this wilting body I may mend!
Mankind swims in a world that its hopes slowly burns.
Rolling the dice as Fate and Death take wicked turns.
As sky then chased away that fiery red-hot sun
ahead an oasis, quickly onward I run
away from lost and blinded journey through this hell
away from lingering doubts I could never quell
away from this world and its insidious pains
away from deep darkness and its decaying stains!
This soul left that black-world wherein hope slowly burns.
No dice, Fate and Death taking no more wicked turns.
Robert J. Lindley, 12 -21- 21
Rhyme, ( Truth That Darkness May Not Prevail )
Notes:
(1.) Inspiration and thanks given, for this poem was received from a comment made to my poem , titled, "I Looked To Heaven That Christmas Night"
Commented on 12/20/2021 5:43:00 PM by Jeannie Amos
("Not everyone makes it out of the Siberian desert of lost souls. Make the best of your blessing."
Thusly - I got this to stir my composing. - ** "" Siberian desert of lost souls. ""**
*******
(2.) Inspiring quotes from famous,
artists/thinkers/ philosophers/poets
(A.)
“Hope is being able to see there is light despite all of the darkness.”
-- Desmond Tutu
(B.)
“Differences are not intended to separate, to alienate. We are different precisely in order to realize our need of one another.”
-- Desmond Tutu
(C.)
"Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness."
-- Carl Jung.
The great tribulation of Jesus Christ as a son of man on
Earth and a son of God in heaven. The prophesy of
God fulfill on the cross. The debt of sins paid by the
Blood of Jesus Christ, image of a man.
The infinite God of the universe came down from heaven to
The debt of the world. He gives justice to the sins of
The sinners to save the whole world. He suffered and died,
Buried and raised from the dead. His death guarantees
Forgiveness and eternal life. God became visible and
Intelligible to us. “ Oh come let us adore him Christ our
Savoir and Lord “. He makes things beautiful,
According to his mercy He saved us. The nail pierced
Hands of Christ reveal the love filled heart of God.
He carry the sins of the world on the cross, He punished by
Men beaten and sorrowful, every single stroke of various
Object use to beat Him causing a lot of His severe pain,
Wounded and painted body with blood.
The anxiety of the body is given in to emotion by pain.
The man put the hard substance forming a crown to
His head that makes Him feel uncomfortable.
The blood comes out to His head running
Down to His eyes through His face freely.
The anxiety of His body, muscle and vein broken and
Damage, so merciful! On the rough road way
He walks carry the cross beaten many times repeatedly,
The men laughing again and again and spatted him.
So strong pain, deep, through His senses image of a man.
On the cross, His hands and feet nailed, trembling His
Whole body deeply pain, the blood flowing every beaten
Stroke force of the hammer to His soft part of the body
Through His muscle and vein wounded. The bloods carry on
Struggling pain coming here and then to His flesh.
His breath fades away. An awful suffering of Jesus Christ,
His uttermost being, whispering to His spirit to go on,
Saying, “Father, why you just forsaken me... forgive them for
They didn't know nothing“, in your hands, I offer my spirit.
The word became flesh, we victorious because of His cruel
Dying on the cross. Hosanna in the highest! Praising you
Oh God in heaven and on earth.
The heaven open and the angels of God ascending and
Descending upon the son of the father in all His deity.
©Jocelyn Dunbar
2 April 2004
12: 30 PM
(My tears freely flowing down while I am writing this poem long time ago)
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
It was St. Patrick’s Day 2011, and all wasn’t
full of happy-go-lucky four-leaf clovers.
No, it wasn’t going to be a very cheerful day
after all.
She had been missing since New Year’s Eve.
That night of terror still rips apart my chest
when I remember the way my phone laid in
my hand not ringing.
I anticipated her phone call, yet deep inside
I knew I would never hear from her again.
I knew that day felt different.
Maybe it was the way the snow was finally
melting along the shore of the reverie that
rested outside my sill.
Maybe it was the changing of seasons that
March always brought that time of year.
I was invited out to go celebrate a day
full of green everything, but I just wasn’t
in the mood for fun anymore.
I had changed since she left and no one
understood why…except me.
So I did what I did best and laid on the bed
we used to laugh on.
I read old letters she wrote me and wrote
in a journal I had been keeping for the last
three months.
It was full of melancholic and sappy goodbyes,
remorseful regrets and yesterday’s sorrows.
Little did I know that night would be the night
that would change my life forever.
I heard the doorbell downstairs ring and my
heart raced.
It was like I already knew who it was and
what he wanted.
Too scared to move I just sat there listening
to the ring….ring…ring…
I looked at the clock on the old dresser and
saw it was 11:02 pm
For that would be the time I’d always
remember.
Each step downstairs I took slower than the
last knowing what I was about to hear.
I saw his silhouette on the front porch and
could see his apprehension.
As I opened the door all it took was one
look upon his face.
It was the detective.
The man who was in charge of searching
day after day and night after night for my
sister.
She was finally found lifeless under an old
Colorado Spruce Pine tree in front of a
fountain.
Time stopped, so did my beating heart.
For my life would never be the same again.
Sometimes when I look at the time and it
happens to be nine seventeen pm, I cry.
Chills run up my arms and through my veins
like that fountain she was lying under when
she took her final breath.
nineseventeenPM Contest
John Lawless
July 7, 2018
It's gettin' late and
we couldn't wait.
Me and Ma just downed 12 cold beers.
It's seven o'clock
and we both are crocked.
And my drug dealer’s fi-nal-ly here.
My ole Dad’s a stinkin’ like
a skunk who’s been binge drinkin’
as my poor Mom slumps in her chair.
My sister looks hot
after smoking some pot.
I’m hoping that she’ll surely share-a!
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! –
C'mon and give me some medications!
I've had it with your saccharine!
Whoa! Saturday Night's alright for sleeping.
Getta little shut-eye in.
Gonna be as sleepy as Van Winkles brain.
Gonna set my clock – yeah, right!
Cause Saturday Night’s tonight, goodnight!
Saturday Night’s tonight – Goodnight…Goodniiiiiiight!
Woooooooh!Oooooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!
Well I’m whacked fairly tight
and feeling light.
Taking one more Percocet will do me right.
I may slug some Robitussin
and suck-in some weed.
Popping three more oxycontins will be
all I’ll need!
A couple-of-a drugs that are really keen
Are Sominex and Nytol
with doxylamine.
I'm a juvenile junkie who hasn’t any class
Watching Motrin PM tablets
fizz in a glass.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! –
C'mon and give me some medications!
I'm tired of potassium!
Saturday Night's alright for sleeping.
Getta couple Zzzz-Zzzz’s in.
Gonna guzzle Ny-Quil ‘til I feel no pain.
Pullin’ down my shades real tight.
Cause Saturday Night’s tonight, goodnight!
Saturday Night’s tonight – Goodnight…Goodniiiiiiight!
Oooooooh!Oooooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!
Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday Night, goodnight!
Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday Night, goodnight!
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
For: Mr. John Heck
Dear John contest - Elton John (music)/Bernie Taupin (lyrics)
Sung to the tune of: Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting
This poem will be featured on the Home Page of Poetry Soup this week
Perfect for Father's day, It s a repost that many have yet to see.
Happy Father's Day
~A Gem of an Inheritance~ Reposr!
Leave your family with virtues
taught, that are Divine!
A major quality called integrity,
will keep their world ashine.
Teach them to never be a sheep,
But, in all relations to shepherd goodness!
A sparkling gem to share and keep.
Above all, to honor God and learn His
teachings.
To know fully He and Only He,
is the source of all Healings.
To not speak a word of evil against
another, a most egregious sin!
All the rage today, in this ungrateful
world we live in!
Above all to share with all others.
For, indeed we are all His sons
and daughters;hence all sisters
and brothers.
Teach them they are perfect as is,
There is zero reward in all our
worldly wins!
For winds come and then pass us
quickly like a bitter, winter wind.
These values are not in 401Ks
nor big banking accounts.
The values of The Spirit?
Oh! How much more, they do count!
October 12, 2019
Copyright © Panagiota Romios |
Chantelle Anne Cooke
Date: 6/21/2020 1:42:00 PM
Excellent pen! The Spirit of the Lord is Divine and we must implement that in our soul and other souls. God bless you! Love Chantelle hugs xx
Reply
Panagiota Romios
Date: 6/21/2020 1:58:00 PM
Thank you for evading it and commenting, dear Chantelle. You are most accurate in your comments. I lived for years as an arrogant fool being better than God. I lost much for doing that. Nearly dying in the process. I had to be brought to Death's door to get the message.a miracle I am still Alive! Bunny hugs, Panagiota xx
Regina Riddle
Date: 10/12/2019 10:10:00 PM
Delete
Yes. God above all. He is love and will get us through anything that comes. God bless you with so much love, Gina
Reply
Panagiota Romios
Date: 10/12/2019 10:19:00 PM
Gina...we are on the same page..,,Panagiota. Hope you had a great day Panagiota
David McHattie
Date: 10/12/2019 5:37:00 PM
Well put my friend. Life is not as complicated as most people think. Have a great day.
Panagiota Romios
Date: 10/12/2019 6:15:00 PM
Greetings David. Always love to hear your input. Panagiota xx
The show must go on from evening till morn; the show must go on in the midst of the storm, get the manuscript and recuse that man from the pulpit, get the director, producer, crew members and actors and upgrade the show before the end of December. Find another pitch to postulate the truth and reveal the intricacy of my adolescence and youth.
The show must go on when resources are low, the show must go on if you have nowhere to go, and if your father is dead you have to let the dead bury the dead, and get on the stage to compete the mission before for it’s too late. Find another rhythm that everyone can dive in; find another tune that we can listen to at noon. And when the time is right we will roll out a new dice.
The show must go on so spread the manuscript on the grass, the show must go on even when the day is dark; the director must re-organize the set and position the actors for a new bet; producers’ must recruit new audience and sponsor the actors on the set, when the finance gets low the producer must revive the show and give all participants something to start with; and when the day is done you must all get together and have fun.
The show must go on when everyone except the star is dead; the moon will provide company and comfort you in your bed; and the universe will embrace you when rockets are flying over your head. The show must go on when fire engulfs your bed and visitors are moving out of the town, going Around and around, just to start right back from where they began.
The show must go on when faces are sad and smile is welled up in your stomach, and when the boss gets mad at you and you don’t know what to do, you have to know how to talk your way through, the show must go on when am not around, the show must go on when you want to frown, the show must go on until eternity, people will come and go and you just have to be part of the show.
The show is about seven generation and their family. Each one is selected to serve a pivotal role in a special time cycle. How did you enter the crew fighting for something that doesn’t belong to you, the new pm a no none a you; your generation is of a different clan and just one person is selected to lead the band so the show must go on. to bring blessing all over the land.
COPYRIGHT-POETESS MRS. ANJALI DENANDEE,MOM
………………..
MY MADNESS
…………………
I run behind of a fox at the evening in the forest , alone…………..
then it enters in it’s shelter…………..
I can not see it then…………………
I stop then…………..
stand near of it’s shelter……………
and I shout then,like it’s tone……..
yes,it’s tone is my wellknown…………
hook – ka – hooya……………hook-ka-hooya…………hook-ka-hooya………..
after some tones, I stop , then………….
and watch the evening star………….
later , also the north star………………..
then run , alone,again……………
why , I do not know it , why,why,why?………………….
I watch then………….
some owls and bats fly and fly……………..
above of my head……………
then the moon is also on the above sky…………..
it gifts it’s free-light on my open-head……………….
then I say to all,’hi ! good evening !’……………
but they do not say me,’good evening’……….
why ? then I think and think……….
then all stars blink and blink………………
and I come back in my own shelter…………..
when return,then my mom says,……..
‘ I watch you, that, for somedays ,……………….
you are moving , at night ?
do you know the time ? now, it is p.m. 8 ................
why are you so late ?.................
now stand up on one leg ,yes, must on the right ,……………….
and hold own both ears by own both hands,………………….
on the open yard……………..
on the green-grassy- land ‘ …………………
then I stand up and enjoy the nice moon- rays…………
behind of me there stands our night-guard…………….
he nothing says ; ……………………
but inside of my shelter ,………
claps and claps , my little brother,then…………
after 15 minutes,my mom says,……
‘come inside,now,and wash own legs and hands’…………………….
I enter inside then………….
and hold my brother’s both ears by my own both hands…………..
and laugh very loudly……..
then he shouts too-loudly…………….
then my mom says loudly,……………………
’wash,your face,legs and hands , …………
go to wash room,quickly , now,go’………….
at this moment , her mobile rings………
krings…..krings…..krings……………..
and she says,’hello ! ‘ ……………….
yes, then I do not go to the wash room and again,………
I hold my brother’s ears……………
and come down his tears…………….
like the rain , ………………….
and then ………..
I laugh loudly………………
very proudly…………………
but mom can not say anything , then…………….
yes,she talks then……………………….
…………………………………………