Long Preference Poems
Long Preference Poems. Below are the most popular long Preference by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Preference poems by poem length and keyword.
Earth had offered Her eco-centric contract
of love and synergy,
awaiting ego's personal response each day,
each moment,
eager to optimize wealthy health care cooperations
of sacred grace.
Over an apparently inadequate lifetime
ego implied his competitive response:
I grow increasingly excited,
stimulated,
by this co-petitioning challenge
to frame our dissonance,
our operational riddles and puzzles,
games and illogistics
and dark strategies
Measured in statistical decomposition
of the odds for sustaining life
by perfecting hatred and fear
of death's dissociative decay.
I question Earth's right to positive resolution
and harmonic resonance,
as consonant co-governance
of enlightened ego empowering eco
to play win/win,
recreate without sin,
and co-passion nicely together
This co-petition against wasted anxious time
fully exercises my right of conscience,
to re-search 0-sum ego-partisanship
for absolute freedom from eco-dependence.
This co-petition asserts our human natural guild's unlovely preference
for contention over contentment
for sustained longing rather than resilient belonging
for uni-lateral freedom
rather than ego/eco bilateral interdependence.
EarthMother absorbed this richly contentious compost,
this dissembling over cooperative rights of assembly
and competition challenging associative eco-creation
as too inclusive recreation,
divisive of ego's omnipotent present place
in organic space
derived from eco's multisystemic functions
within history's healthiest seasons.
It seems to me,
said She,
Time has unfolded an eco-systemic co-tractive gift,
born of Her binomial grace
in bilaterally felt space,
a belonging response to mutually co-tribute with ego
gratitude for bicameral mutuality
and full freedom of co-scientific consciousness,
to conjoin time's eternal moment
of past personal ego
with future eco recentering life.
Post Scripted: "After all this time and space
repeating inhumane competitions and cooperative contractions,
deductive inducements to balance positive political space
with negative un-ecological economic time,
thank you for remembering why RightBrain felt eco-normics
gave birth to LeftBrain's verbal ego-petitions
in our first through last breathing moment
of win/win eco-operative identity."
Signed: Earth's Polypathic CoOperative Covenant
Myrtle Parker
Myrtle Parker lived on the Riviera,
That’s the English one not the French.
Her favourite tipple is Red Currant Cider,
Only beverage her thirst would quench.
Never did she marry no husband,
Preference for life single and free,
Though kept two doggy companions,
Twin Westies, Florence and Zebedee.
Miss Parker was a gatherer and hoarder,
Antiques, curios, lots of impractical tat.
Her catchphrase was somewhat familiar,
“I‘ll find a good use for that.”
Tumbledown Cottage name on the gate,
Aptly called for badly required repair.
The man from Devonshire Council,
Shakes his head in anguished despair.
Oh, dear Myrtle what are we to do,
I cannot see the wood for the trees,
Environment Officer is calling today,
He doesn’t like cockroach and fleas.
Myrtle lives close to Muscle shell beach,
Small cove of shingle and coarse sand,
Opposite the Cat protection league,
Where she buys new clothes second hand.
One summer had a house full of Kittens,
That grew into fully grown cats.
They left her in search of new comforts,
Plagued by visits of large rodent rats.
Myrtle decided on a radical clear out,
To make way for a new feather bed,
But could not let go of her treasures,
So continued sleeping on the sofa instead.
Seventy years old, obstinate and proud,
Devon Council man returned to her door.
“This house is making you poorly my dear,
Regretfully you cannot live here anymore.
Oh, dear Myrtle here’s what we’ll do,
Move you into a comfy town flat,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Condemn your cottage, so sorry about that.
Myrtle Parker was born in this house,
Her father he worked on the boats,
Mother stayed home baking bread,
From freshly ground buckwheat groats.
Tumbledown cottage is full of memories,
Though can’t find many for the clutter.
Diminutive rooms two up two down,
Walls dampened by broken pipe gutter.
If I have to go then take me in a box,
She chained herself to the newel post.
I’ll defend my rights for all I’m worth,
Then haunt Council man as his ghost.
Council man arrives excited with keys,
For Miss Parkers new urban home,
But Myrtle had been true to her word,
and perished on the staircase all alone.
Oh, dear Myrtle what have you done,
Your new flat was shiny and clean,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Demolition boss with bulldozer team.
Watching the Olympics news
coverage today
Sadly this is the conclusion
i came to afterwards
Our British male duo won gold
in the synchronized diving event
Brilliant yes of course an
unbelievable achievent
But given more than any other
sport the clue being in the name
It should be equal appreciation
and praise for each as without
the other winning is simply
an impossibility
So how come then i know who
Tom Daley is but don't even know
his diving partner's name
Maybe that's because he was
made to appear or seem
totally irrelevant by the media
news coverage
After the pair won they cut to
Tom Daleys family his mother
husband and their baby
Then we see Tom being
interviewed , Tom singular
on his own fielding questions
mostly regarding his personal
life and sexual preference
And thanking the LGBT
community for all there support
Exactly what that has to do
with diving i hold my hands
up i do not know admittedly
i am no expert on the subject
But personally for me what
i found was the real kick in
the teeth smack in the face
As i for 1 absolutely love and
breathe sport the gift the ability
the dedication the sacrifice
Was how it was constantly
infered it was only Tom's
dream since he was a young
child to win a gold medal
Again personally and only
to me what i seen goes against
the very ethos and ideology
of what the Olympics itself
stands for
I felt so sorry for him and his
family as Tom family husband
and child got more coverage
than he did
I tried to put myself
in his or his family shoes
and tried to wonder
How they must have felt having
their joy pride stolen and cheated
from them
Reduced merely to a bit part
or side show to the main event
And again i protest because
the clue is in the name
Synchronized Diving a duo
a pair a partnership a team
1 simply can not without
the aid of the other 1 win
So tell me where on earth
is the justice and sportsmanship
to be found here
And his name by the way
just incase you missed it
or care is
Matty Lee and he to also
wanted to be and win a
gold medal
And was just as dedicated
and trained just as hard in
order to achieve and make both
theirs dream a reality
Rather than as the press and
media barely refer to him as
Tom Daleys diving partner
or the other guy
We attended a candle-lit concert…with joy and wonder already built in.
It was the music of Adele…performed by 1 cello and 3 violins.
For a little while that evening…if was our aim…our intention…our goal
to allow the candles to light up our hearts…while the music soothed our souls.
Because we needed to be mesmerize, to be enchanted and enthralled…
to put on hold…for a moment…the horrible things our government is doing
to people outside the concert hall.
As we waited to enter we met and talked to a young couple…
they liked Adele but their favorite artist is Coldplay…
This couple was from London, England…(we could listen to them talk all day).
We met another couple and the group we were standing with let out a cheer
when we discovered it was their anniversary…they’ve been married for seven years.
With the aid of Google we helped another couple…who were on the edges of despairing…
by reading to them the correct way to get lip gloss out of the clothes that they were wearing.
Once inside…(we showed up early…we hate to arrive late)
we met up with our niece…attending the concert with her date.
Then we all sat down to listen to the music of Adele played by 1 cello and 3 violins…
and let the music lift us up…and take us to places we’ve never been.
Every now and then I’d close my eyes…then open them before the song was done
only to see a thousand notes floating in the air…landing on everyone.
When I described the people we met that night …the ones listening to 1 cello and 3 violins…
I deliberately omitted any information about what they looked like…
their sexual preference, their gender…the color of their skin.
Because it didn’t matter to the notes onto whose shoulders they were landing
or to the music…into whose ears it flew….
and if it didn’t matter to the notes or the music…why should it matter to you.
Music sees us as humans…it does not see our sex, gender color or name…
to the notes that emanated from 1 cello and 3 violins…we all look the same.
When the concert ended we did feel mesmerized, enchanted and enthralled…
and we wished this feeling of togetherness and unity…would extend outside the concert hall.
Perhaps that’s what our government…every government needs…before any session begins…
to take a moment…close their eyes and listen…to the music of 1 cello and 3 violins.
Like a Potter, God has a plan and a purpose for us. Like clay, we are filled with air and many impurities.
He places us on 'The Wheel', where we must be schooled. He's ever patient to long endure with our disharmony.
He's beyond tolerant, going the farthest distance with us. He'll bake, shake, remake us; reshape us; return us; resend us;
It's hard to even imagine what good He would not do for us. He's unafraid and freely allows freedom of expression and freewill.
He knows no weakness that disallows Him to release us to our own devices. His Divine Law of Freewill often yield to our hastened demise and destruction.
Many are the tears of God, frequently poured out for the choices we make. But He is bound by His Divine Laws, intrinsically stamped upon His character.
Although He is Omnipotent to do as He pleases, He sometimes prohibits Himself from certain actions.
His Love is also subject to Divine Legalities of Holiness. And His personal attributes never contradict each other.
He is indeed vitally involved in the human condition'; but He forces neither success or failure; and He neither
dictates heaven; nor does He program hell for us. Each destination is a personal preference via free choice.
I must confess, there are times when I wish it were not so. But ultimately, the Father knows best how things should go.
03272017 FB PS Contest, Be Didactic, John Anderson
Over a period of six years, I have observed three cats not my own. Though I have owned a cat before, I'm not considered a 'pet person'.
Nor have I been a pet owner long enough to lay any claim to 'pet wisdom'. Allow me to share about two of them referred to as Cat One, and Cat Two.
One day I noticed that Cat One was starring up a tree in my front yard. I observed from my front window and discovered the target of his watch.
There was a squirrel way up high, far and away from the reach of Cat One. She made at least two attempts at climbing the tree but decided it was no use.
I'm sure she knew better, but it seems her hopes were that the squirrel would either come down or somehow slip and fall. I could have told her, "Fat chance
of that happening". I don't know how long the stand-off had been going on, but I observed the episode for about ten minutes. Finally, I sensed the cat
began to say, "I'm going home; I've had enough of this". When Cat One had crossed the street, the squirrel came from the tree and ran down my fence.
Cat Two wasted no time starring at squirrels in trees too quick for him. His preference was mice. As did Cat One, Cat Two belonged to someone because
they did not appear to be stray cats. However, I'm not sure Cat Two was properly loved and fed because it was certain that his 'mice catching abilities'
came with a price tag. I say that because on at least two occasions after he caught a mouse he would purposely deposit him right near my doorstep where
I was sure to see it. It might just be 'their way', but I felt that Cat Two was saying to me, "Okay, I have done my job; now it is time for you to do your job
and feed me". Although I was never interested in making him my own, I was always happy to feed him. I have always appreciated and respected cats and
other pets and these observations of Cat One and Cat Two gave me an even higher regard for these quiet and fuzzy friends known as cats.
08102018PoetrySoupContest, Cat Poems, Tania Kitchin, 4P
I can tell this story because I stumbled through every chapter of this book.
I know the message and don’t understand from which passage you misinterpreted by the words you took.
You say, to be like me you have to be raped by someone close!
Molested by a stranger, touched by his fingers that’s the quote you wrote.
Not loved by my mother…
Never hugged by my father…
Non-existent to my family!
And you say as a man I am not unique and will always struggle to find a place in my society.
You questioned my love of GOD and stated hell is where I would be.
Funny huh…
What made me laugh is your Christianity leaps out the nearest window after communion on first Sunday.
Called me a female dog traveling the streets with no collar, a *****, a stray, a mut is this what you really think of me?
Look through my eyes real deep and lets just take a quick peek.
My character goes past my sexual preference traveling deeper than my child hood stories.
The quote you wrote was far from the truth.
A little far fetch’d that’s what I think of you.
Because we both know if you were more comfortable with yourself instead of hiding behind your wealth, with me is where you would be.
A lawyer to the community full of lies and infidelity
For some reason it seems you should have took a similar road to me yet lying in a bed full of treachery
Next to a woman with lights off you vision as me.
Lets speak up so to be…
Who are these people you speak of as being like me?
Are you speaking on those who are as comfortable as me in walking the road of life on their own two feet…
Or those who are true to themselves and more importantly their family.
Ones who don’t have to lie
Their spouse don’t have to spy
Nor get their shoulders drenched from their kids cry
When finding out their dads obsession to another guy!
Your quote was very oblique to a guy like me because I have already went through the changes..
Where friends are rearranged,
Family left and came,
Also my community going insane.
But yet I obtained…
Respect for myself which everyone else did the same.
So a man true to myself I remain
Maybe in time you would try it.
To be a little more like me and not fight it.
But to this day you refrain…
And a hidden life you maintain.
You could never be with me…
Because your truth hides behind my comfort ability!!!
I am greatly annoyed by dismissive people. Only a few succeed at altering their persuasion, because nothing can be added to their equation.
They are most assuredly conclusive; and they may also be elusive.
They are not very inclusive; but more likely to be exclusive.
They are very active, and not at all passive.
They are beyond divisive. They are totally dismissive.
They only care about their own point of view.
Rationality and reason do not reside on their avenue.
Perhaps they think that they know what is best;
and all others can bow out and take a rest.
Me thinks they have a preference for intellectural domination;
because they shun debate, discussion, and more information.
They have foreclosed the matter and closed their minds. There is nothing to be added; everyone else is subtracted.
I hereby confess, I am really annoyed by dismissive people. With them, all intelligence to the contrary has hereby been dismissed.
05092017 PS Contest, What Annoys You? , Frank Herrera; 3rd. Pl.
Of all old friends, those we have of old are best;
These the souls we travel with by preference,
Theirs the spirits to whom we grant all deference.
Their hopes are ours, ours their own;
All victories shared, from like ambitions grown.
Their years match step with ours,
Show like passage of the hours,
Silent steps of Time with which our lives are sown.
They are moved as we are moved;
Troubled and pleased by like turns of Fate,
We pass through one another's gates
Into rooms where loyalty is proved
By ties of woven sympathies,
By bonds no outsider sees.
By bonds no outsider sees
We tie ourselves to those who share
The pithy heart of all unspoken cares,
The shadows that would dim our days
If no one shared our private ways,
If none there were to let us know
The fitness of the face we dare not show;
The old friend nods and quietly stays
Close by our side when mere acquaintance leaves,
Unashamed to share our darkest inner night;
Awaits with us the slow return of light.
The old friend trusts and faithfully believes
The tales we tell ourselves of joy or sorrow,
Looks to yesterday and forward to tomorrow.
Looking back to yesterday. forward to tomorrow,
We walk with them through the wilderness of living
Thankful for their presence and forgiving,
As do we, the flaws that mark our human bounds
Ignoring discordant notes that sound
From time to time in all the narrative
We build to define our days and give
Form and substance to the constant rounds
Of night to day and day to night,
Our mutual progress towards Eternity,
The approaching dark we do not wish to see
Unless in company with the comforting light
Of well-earned close companionship,
Of sympathetic souls who join us on the trip.
Seeking truths wherein the brave heart delves,
We guide each other through dwindling days
To face the world, to learn its ways,
Its cruelties and its beauties shared
Both the better for each time we dared
To question this, our common Lot:
To Be, awhile, and then to Not.
So we share all we have got
To fill our time, to weave our lives.
Without old friends, the path is drear and long,
Where goes but one to compose the song
To tell of what we were, and how we strived
To rescue Sense from Folly, all the rest;
Of all friends, those we have of old are best.
I turned 18 in 1967 at a time when I could not vote because the required age was 21. The age requirement was lowered to 18 on July 5, 1971. I turned 22 in September of 1971 but became eligible to vote a couple of months prior.
I remember registering to vote and casting my first Presidential ballot in 1976, but do not recall any personal political activity on my part prior to then. I am proud to say that I have been a faithful voter since 1976 and have always believed that one's voice should be heard and not silenced. Right or wrong, red or blue, left or right, for or against, party preference or independent, to be heard and to have our say is the American way.
Realizing the power of 'one vote', to vote is a must; to not vote is not an option. To site just a few '1-vote' decisions, consider the following:* In 1910, a Democratic candidate for New York House of Representatives defeated the Republican incumbent by 1 vote. In 1988, in the Massachusetts Governor's Democratic Primary, the losing candidate lost by 1 vote, and it was his own. He arrived at his precinct a few minutes after the polls closed and wasn't able to vote. In 2002, in the Washington House of Representatives Republican Primary, the race was decided by 1 vote. To make matters worse, a friend of the losing candidate admitted that his ballot was never mailed.
So apart from speaking my veiws and opinions to others, I have been present at the ballot box which is one of the greatest tools for the exercise of one's freedom of speech as an American citizen. For example, in this polical season, after recieving my Vote By Mail Official Ballot, I voted on 02/06/20 and mailed my ballot the next day more than 3 weeks before the primary.
Without question, it greatly matters that we vote and for whom we vote. Our say, our voice, our vote natters. For example. Because of the person I voted for, my vote influenced the release of 52 American citizens in 1981, held hostage in Iran for 444 days. Our vote does not do all that we would like it to do, but it saves lives and does far more than 'a non-casted ballot'.
022520PoSp*Wikipedia