Long Prime of life Poems
Long Prime of life Poems. Below are the most popular long Prime of life by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prime of life poems by poem length and keyword.
Pressure to impress, perceived ineptitude, kills
Incapable of King imitation, blame plagued eyes
Publicly pressed to deliver sought after replica
Infiltrated by inescapable history Ben despised
Failed expectation driven prime of life suicide
Hailed Presley descendant, drifted pale ghost
Image Siamesed by status of rock relic
Near half century after legend's last show
Name advantage presented pedestal
Keough's fears disallowed him to use it
Comparisons ping ponged constantly
Admirers did so in Grandad's perusal
Poverty is struggle, earning the right to survive
Power's hunger pressure cooked untimely suicide
A friend is one who sees you not as weak
But in the process of becoming strong
Who listens long and well as others speak
Not judging but encouraging along
Though in the very prime of life, a friend
Thought not of me as old or out-of-style
With genuine affection he'd extend
A laugh, a handshake, hug, or friendly smile
And you, kind sir, were just that friend to me
Although we met not frequently enough
With not a bone of insincerity
You lived as advertised: the real stuff
We spoke of sports, for this was common ground;
Of baseball, football, hoops, and favorite teams
Of quarterbacks or pitchers on the mound
Of Super Bowl, Olympic, World Cup dreams
You're gone too soon; too many words unspoken
Too little water passed under our bridge
Now through my tears I see that bridge is broken
But to have known you was my privilege.
When I was a young lad in the prime of life
Never thought I'd still be around
When my driver's license said, “older than dirt!”
And my mind was no longer sound
But I can get away with a bunch of neat stuff
Rack it up to “he's left the planet!”
“His mental capacity equals that of a wee child”
Gonna take full advantage, run the gamut
Need to pee and dribble now and then
Talk in riddles and scratch my bum
Wipe my boogies on my Sunday clothes
And belch when company comes
Know all the tricks as I giggle to myself
It's a downright lead pipe cinch
Con them till they put me in a old pine box
Mumbling about my belly button lint
I heard him say they will take America by ballot, bullet or birth.
I guess that means that they want to take America and make it non-American.
Will we have freedom, will we have love, will we survive and thrive.
Have we already died by low birth rate, and the failure to replace ourselves.
Ballot, bullet, and birth, I heard him say, they will take America, anyway they can.
America seems to be at war, war with others that want to destroy, they want it all, the people, the assets, and to take us all.
Ballot, bullet, and birth, I heard him say, I am afraid, what will the future hold for us.
No one should have to be intimidated and afraid, people who hate America should just go to a place that makes them happy and okay.
No need to fight, no need to make threats, just go wherever you want, so many have died just doing their life, left dead in their prime of life.
America, we will pray for you, we will pray for everyone’s safety, for all of our leaders to keep us safe, for the success of our America, and for all to live at peace.
Let’s move forward with love, intention, and prayer, today and into the future, for we walk in this life with God by our side.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
should i go out as usual and watch the apathetic passersby though it doesn’t matter whether that passerby is a beautiful woman or unlovely one if i have to encounter at all i wish to bump into beauty rather than unlovely of course or a man at the prime of life strutting along a street with all the world’s problem on his shoulders whether he can solve it or not rather than a shabby old man walking with a cane in his shaking hand and better yet the lively youths who even go on their mischievous way in time because today is so precious to them and therefore has no time to think about tomorrow who knows if the place where i fall shoved and tripped over by the feet of the passersby while wandering on the street is the elysium on the other side of eternity
A man or woman in the prime of life
who values her husband or he his wife.
A person of strength with a disciplined mind,
One who is courageous, respectful, and kind.
They have great intellect but do not boast.
They love God,their country, and family the most.
The hardships and worries of every citizen
Are important and worthy of their attention.
Great honor and integrity they will possess,
And view the poor and needy with tenderness.
Not slothful or selfish, not weak or uncaring,
Our future and reputation aware that they carry.
Believing everyone has the right to make their own choices,
letting every person speak up, and hearing their voices.
A person of faith but not hypocritical,
They respect opinions, your faith they won't ridicule.
Not racist, not sexist, no contempt for disabled,
Believing all equal, all sit at round tables.
With strength and righteous anger for our enemies,
But able to compromise and all people please.
As much as I wish it, this can't be real, what a joke!
But if they were actual, they'd sure have my vote!
For years he had thought
that God belonged to a secret society
one he could never be part of,
notwithstanding, he imagined himself a mystic,
In the prime of life, as sometimes happens,
rats began to gnaw at anchor ropes,
he began to drift away from his true self.
He became that most deluded of all beings –
a follower and a seeker.
Fortunately for his sanity,
he became a weaver of words,
a thought painter, an image maker,
a sort of poet.
His work was to be this enactment
upon a Scrabble board
a stage where sacred symbols were wrought
from alphabet salads.
If he were speaking now
he would tell you
that though he picked the letters.
and arranged the words
he is certain sure that any concept of
God-game game he played
always pointed back at himself,
and so, he found his truth again.>center>
early 50's
don't mean maybe
here i come
slap the baby
hear me screaming
now i'm breathing
the proud parents
really beaming
mid december
it is chilly
named me mike
instead of billy
adolescence
before you know it
kind of shy
don't you blow it
moved away
because of dad
left behind
friends i had
teenage years
finally settled
florida
from seattle
culture shock
plus the weather
all i had
sonic sweaters
took no time
skin to leather
from the color
alabaster
here's the years
i discovered
full time friends
part time lovers
a few times
things got drastic
drank to much
acted spastic
laid around
worked on fattening
mom and dad
were not laughing
as they begged
on their knees
find a job
so you can leave
i joined in
the military
with no war
not too scary
found a girl
we got married
had some kids
now it's scary
lost my job
lost my dime
standing in
unemployment lines
found a job
things are fine
moving to
the prime of life
with the kids
still at home
things are moving
right along
from the left
to the right
that's the story
of my life
Today
I heard them say that things were now much better.
That place, which I had founded by God's Grace
And into which my soul was poured
Now has new staff, directors and another board.
It's changed from early years
So when I come to chat, I sign a visit book
And reception sometimes gives a sideways look
To wonder 'who is he?'
All that work, the self's esteem, confined to
Annals on the shelf. It's come, it's gone
And all is now a 'once has been'.
My prime of life is slipping well behind,
A runner slowing in his race and then
Another pack begins to lap and overtake
With faster pace than mine, now fading
Eyes now counting every shortened stride,
Still bright, though, still lifted to the finish line.
Will it be a race well run?
Too late to start from blocks again.
Besides who wants the blows, the knocks
The daily strain. For those who run
Their life race well the finish is a passing line
Another Starter's gun, a new race just begun
And so this final turn upon the track
Though slow, holds promise of a head
Held high, and joyful shouts when passing by:
'Well done! Well done! a race well run!
Now come and place your hand in Mine'
Inspired by :
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart). I am never without it."
E.E. Cummings
Placed second in :
A-Types of Forms Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Spring I Relish Your Shine
Sweet shining spring, season of birth
Perfusing life and scent to plants
Restoring joy and mirth on earth,
I relish your whispering chant
Near rivers, forests and gardens
Garlanded with flowers for men.
In the very depth of my heart
Rests the sparkling heart of your shine
Ever since your charm was an art,
Lingering in the vestige of time,
Igniting the expanse of the space
Shimmering as season sublime
Heralding prime of life apace,
Yet unwilling to quit pristine
Outputs of your own elegance
Under cover of your brilliance,
Resplendent with your radiance.
Seduced by your shining splendour,
Here let me carve some humble words
In memory of your wonder,
Never without flowers and birds
Endlessly serving as stewards.