Long Presenter Poems
Long Presenter Poems. Below are the most popular long Presenter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Presenter poems by poem length and keyword.
What happened when someone says ‘you have to do this, but you do not want to?’
Forty-five of us in this room, but the presenter is met with silence.
The presenter persists. What if you feel it is morally wrong? But you are told to do it. Do you do it?
A loud burst of laughter echoes around the room.
The presenter smiles at me.
Other participants turn and stare at me, in a gawking way.
I do not even know these people, so their stares do not upset me.
Compromising my integrity would upset me though, so I sit quietly,
trying not to laugh as the presenter continues to make jokes that I catch.
She is hilarious. What is wrong with the others?
I feel myself slipping. Another loud burst of laughter projects out of me.
Some of the others stare.
One tries to shame me with one of those looks.
The presenter begins using my name now. I am the one she knows.
We are wearing name badges,but I am the loudest happy one.
By the time the first day of conference is over, I am the only person she
continually refers to, always talking about my sense of fun.
I am unsure if it is because I am the rebel, or we relate to each other.
I continue to be comfortable with myself, choosing not to think about the children whose names I always remember first when I am the teacher.
You know who they are.
You are invited to our Symposia on civil discourse--
The keynote lecture is titled 'Look before you leap'
during which you'll have to put your device to sleep--
Note that the presenter is by both sides of the aisle endorsed
After lunch will be a session on self-restraint--
Overcoming temptations to text or to tweet
no matter if done in a manner discrete--
With tips ranging from cutting edge to quaint
Wrapping things up will be a talk on listening with respect--
Featuring "If I understand you correctly then,..."
or "If you will permit me to make a suggestion,..."
~ And that's a preview of what from our Symposia to expect!
I look back at my dad's radio
Shuffling through the channels
Cause the signal is too weak
But my dad will wait in awe
When the presenter starts off at the top of the hour
You'd see my dad fixed in his stool
Still to get to hear the nation address
The words of hope he hopes to hear
It's been many decades now but he's still keen
He's never wavered in what the country could be
And he's served it well
Like a true statesman, he put his family first
The radio brought together the whole village
It's where the hearts converged
And drummed all through the hour
Before the drums kept beating from a distance
That radio has seen the best of the years
From the regimes that got us out of houses to cheer on
To regimes that made it possible for kids to get an education
To the one who built futuristic roads
I bought him a new radio
But it doesn't sound like the old one
But he's eager to turn it on
And not miss the news
The PO£T
Written by Gail DeBole on October 16, 2014
Updated on October 21, 2014
Note: All unscheduled times are for unplanned miracles.
Monday – 1:00 a.m. - Protect William so that he survives a tragic car accident.
10:00 a.m. - Greet new arrivals to heaven with orientation and tour.
Tuesday – 11:00 a.m.
Attend the funeral of Janet to guide her spirit.
Wed. – 3:00 p.m. – Guide Arthur out of a coma.
4:00 p.m. and on - Help trapped families escape a flood.
Thurs. – 5:50 a.m. - Put the idea for this poem inside Gail's head.
7:00 a.m. - Get wings manicured and halo adjusted.
8:00 a.m. - Look for a more comfortable white puffy cloud to live on.
9:00 a.m. - Attend team meeting with other Angels.
4:00 p.m. - Attend Celestial Happenings meeting.
(Group for Angels to share experiences.)
Weekend Mornings - Attend half-day seminars. Presenter: God
I know the best
poetry is
suppose to live in
broken love,
death, regret,
and fear of facing
another tomorrow.
Those things
that drag emotion
across the heart,
or stab
you in the brain,
with
pain and
sorrow.
But has there ever been a poet
that’s not known
such tragedy,
has no knowledge of heartbreak,
been hurt or wronged
because he didn't fit a mold.
Whose stomach
is always full,
never had to
sleep in the cold.
One that has loved
without regret
never had to beg
or borrow.
Call me a
presenter of possibilities
mediator of metaphor
encourager of exaggerations
implementor of imagination
or facilitator of fakery
but
I am no poet
A cacophony of thoughts swirls in my confused mind.
Yesterday was quiet and peaceful, everything moving
on well-oiled rails. Suddenly the train of memories
accelerated and now things will never be as before.
A letter came from a well-known TV presenter.
We found your mother, my friend, he said.
Ruminations of lilac and black oscillated tempestuously
Through the corridors of my marshy mind. What was I to do?
Did I want to meet my unknown mother or not?
I had never met her and to do so now seemed I was
crossing a turbulent river, eddying all around.
My mother had to give me up when I was just a baby.
I don’t blame her. There was a war and she could not
give me the care I needed. But she always regretted
her decision and wanted me back. She got her wish
three lonely decades after she lost sight of me.
A decision had to be made, shall I meet her or not?
I had never seen her face, nor her mien, nor heard her talk.
But blood is thick and deep in my heart I knew
I had to meet her. An appointment was made, and there was no
turning back. There she was and my heart leapt with joy.
It was not her looks or how she talked. It was just
the intuition. She was my mum and I hugged her and found
great appeasement, bliss, euphoria and above all peace.
Fiction, please.
Daisy field
Blown by the soft breeze yield
Downy petals flow malleable
Brave pressures of nature designed to be able
Created by God very good acceptable
Sturdy stems golden scented center
The pollen presenter
Field enter
With a soft kiss sealed
The butterfly's touch on Daisy
Their hand perfect dealed
Short kiss pollen sip love one
Flit onward to next Daisy
In Daisy field healed
Viewing birds adorable
Scene feelings affirmable
Birds, bees, flowers my good emotions revealed
Those emotions that once were locked away thinking concealed
Good feelings now able
To let all blocked emotions yield
Freedom very accomplishable
Like a banana skin is unpeeled
Life before Daisy field so abominable
Glad that life now accountable
Emotions pour slowly unconcealable
Lessons learned from Daisy field high yield
(Very difficult three forms in one write.
Thanks Jared for the challenge..I was
determined that I was going to write
something..)
They researched things to help the struggling folk here.
Now was the opportunity to capture the attention of those who refused to believe in opportunity.
Colation terms and words were borrowed from rivaling industries.
There new definition could outline the need for monatery growth through investments. One joked about investing in a alternatorbfor his car, but that joke outlined everything we hated about poverty.
Adjusting and reading for a fall wasn't submissive it only narrated the outcome without educating against the differences and same ess of these words.
Most were frustrated when the folk refused to understand the offering.
A small investment to create accounts for fast growth, using many people to offset the long. Wait.Months not years said. The presenter.
I don't need to lay hands on the sick to ease suffering. We only need to educate might the minds see and believe in the opportunity.
Is it just me
Or do you as well
Watch the commercials on T.V
And wonder exactly what on earth
it is they are actually trying to sell
Or are you like me somehow think
we have slipped into some kind of
alternate universe
Because I am sure I just seen the new
Lottery advert
And it was about a village green cricket
match with the team dressed in traditional
Whites
Then the Presenter comes on ready to
bat kitted out from top to toe in Red ,
Helmet , Bat , Pads , Glove's the full monty
Now as tenuous links and connections go
this is the best and only idea I could come
up with
Maybe at the initial meeting to thrash
out some concepts and ideas
The leader of the brain's trust was swinging
a bat around and accidentally hit everyone
in the head including himself
Causing mass amnesia and concussion
And when they all eventually came too
they forgot what product they were
supposed to be selling in the 1st place
And somehow thought it was a brilliant
fantastical idea
Nervous Hands
Did you know nervous hands can cause problems?
Let me tell you, folks, I know they can!
Hear my tale of a fidgety woman
and her equally jittery man.
At a conference, they became restless
as the speaker just droned on and on.
Though they tried to give him their attention,
they just couldn’t. Each stifled a yawn.
He began to drum HARD on the table
with his fingernails—thumpity-thump.
The presenter and others shot daggers
with their eyes at this troublesome chump.
Then he popped EVERY one of his knuckles,
dropped his papers all over the floor,
rattled change in his pockets—jing-jingle.
Sitting by them, I silently swore.
She was busy with her own distractions,
searching noisily through her huge purse
for her Bic, which she clicked with great fervor.
Could things possibly get any worse?
Yes! She rattled a hard-candy wrapper
in each hand on and on with true verve.
Then she “combed” her long hair with her fingers.
These two trounced on my very last nerve!
You must wonder why nobody told them,
“You can leave, or we’ll toss you head first.”
You just can’t eject business owners
even when they’re the absolute worst!
written in anapestic meter
July 30, 2018, entered in Nina Parmenter's A Rattling Rhyme Contest