Long Principals Poems
Long Principals Poems. Below are the most popular long Principals by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Principals poems by poem length and keyword.
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough.
One wanted to kill many Germans, the other to save many Jews.
The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable.
Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind.
Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's
coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic,
the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious.
Wealth does not obviate death and we know it.
Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches,
school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When
violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to
for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable
Crichton?
Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign
of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's
bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair.
But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own
********.
While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation
upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself.
Imagining the world without the self will make you whole.
What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well.
After the war the brothers started a small trucking company
in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting
was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked
before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in
what happened.
22
to all the presidents, of clubs
Or companies,
to all the principals of technological high school,
to all the market cashiers,
Who want to make you disappear,
to all the news journalists
Who speak without loving us,
to all the champions, the Olympic medalists,
to all javelin throwers,
to all university professors,
Doctors in law, in nuclear physics,
to all grain producers,
To the chocolate masters,
To the cabaret dancers,
to all pizza eaters,
To Brest, to Toulouse,
to all window cleaners,
To the excellent comedians, Debbouze, or Gad Elmaleh,
to all the conductors,
To the dentists who perform,
to all the Sioux chiefs, or Apaches
to all medical researchers,
In their laboratories,
to all the Nobel Prize winners,
From literature or chemistry,
to all jazz musicians,
to all talented artists,
To opera singers, to blues ones too,,
to all the cultured Parisians,
To the abandoned drag queens,
to all the indiscreet pastry chefs,
To sleeping grandfathers,
To the fish merchants, the hunters,
to all the poets of France,
To the deployed cartomancers,
to all students and high school students,
to you, who read this incongruous list,
finally this poem is ending, you might say,
Yes, the world will continue without you,
Think about it more often.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
[Soft Sultry female vocals]
[verse]
In the land of "If" somewhere this side of forgotten dreams
the world is very foggy and nothing is as it seems
There are no deadlines or plans
things just happen as they may
No new commitments made
nothing beyond today
The land of If is living in the moment
without working for your dreams
(nothing is as it seems)
[break]
[beat switch]
[bass drop]
Your dreams are somehow forgotten
among everyday ordinary things
And you have no firm goals
beyond the few day to day cares
You are in stasis
The daily grind seems to wear
Cause the land of if,
is for you to fill with your dreams
you only need to remember them
and put plans down to earn
(dreams, bucket list)
(plans to earn)
(check)
[break]
[beat switch]
[bass drop]
(nothing is as it seems)
[break]
For anything you can think of is possible too,
though the dates an times an persons may change
as things go along they are skewed.
(things can feel screwed)
[break]
But the intent it to reach nirvana
the things that will bring you to bliss
and to not live a life wondering what you did miss
[musical interlude]
Money, fame, power, unconditional love
are all available to anyone and are not a mystery above
We can get what we dream of
if we only make a plan. (make a plan)
And work it every day,
and on your principals
make a stand
(Make a stand in your home base)
(principals determine if the rest was just a waste)
[break]
[beat switch]
[bass drop]
So make your land of "IF"
a realization of your dreams
and life will never be the same again I promise you,
its as easy as it seems
(Gotta have your dreams!)
[break]
[Instrumental]
to make life worth living
you have to open that door
and dig down deep into your core
and if you realize that part of you
you will never want for more
[lyrics fade]
its the door
its the door
If
If
If
If
it will make a diff
If
[End]
PASS THE TRASH
Poem sure to sound familiar,
Catholic church scandal recall.
Pedophiles bounced just everywhere,
predator list … kept growing tall.
Clergy, priest but now teachers, are
problematic in school classes!
“Passing the Trash” school’s call this, some
schools blind … wear rose colored glasses?
“Pass Trash” numbers are sicking,
News mentioning five principals,
three assistants, two hundred and
ninety teachers … unthinkable!
Abusers hide in school systems,
best you check, your community.
Parents advised to document,
what child tells you … or what you see.
Documentation need, check see
something matches accusations.
Be diligent, keep abusers
away from our daughters … and sons.
July 25, 2023 copyright
Contest:1232
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Milanda keeps the voice to herself; she likes the keening of it.
The wails keep her on her toes, as the poltergeist rules her.
The shudders are drawn, and there are ghoulish shadows.
This is as it must be the poltergeist whispers in spook voice.
Milanda’s parents are alarmed, they take her to a psychiatrist.
He prescribes lithium which she pretends to take. Ha Ha.
For they are not going to take her demon girl from her.
She has a life now fashioned against all of their principals.
She is eager to find out about the darkness of the world.
The poltergeist moves her on demonic strings.
She resists in no way, glad to blame another for her antics.
She used to be on her own, but now there are two of her.
What is happening? Her mother asks. Talk to me.
She is the enemy the demon girl hisses. She nods, understanding.
It is the two of us against all of these others. They paint the room black.
Lie in the bed, whispering things that would alarm the girl’s parents.
Her father comes in to speak to her. She is annoyed beyond her threshold.
How dare he act like things are normal, when he was the one who split her.
His antics are what drove her to develop a demon girl in the first place.
She sends him out, consternated, not understanding his princess at all.
At least he did not touch us, the demon girl poltergeist says.
Milanda had hoped that he would. She is feeling strong and savage now.
She would have torn him apart, gnashed him with her teeth.
She would be glad to destroy him as he had destroyed her trust years ago.
Tongue Study
Tongues
Steady it wags
needing to know
more, about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain.
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served, it has given
and taken, it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been bitten,
and it has been written,
the tongue can be tied, twisted
curt, sweet, sharp, wagging or
bragging.
It may be your
native tongue
or foreign, it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
"the cat may have it".
If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead, you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.
The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.
Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.
Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.
Be careful, mind your tongue
it is closest to your own ears
and will affect you first, rather
before the others hear.
Be not at the mercy of
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown.
Do not despise the
a foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual, do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
or those who can barely
master his own tongue.
In general, I have concluded
whether you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.
I will not justify my tongue
when I use its power for the wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust.
The real power is in
the righteousness
of the speaking tongue.
For those who live by
the sharp and swarded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer.
May also die
by the mighty tongue,
or by the holding of it.!
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
Changing Values
Time keep on changing without a stop,
Human behavior also keeps on rolling,
Without tiring like Time and Watch.
The Man who showed the world light and torches,
And were the leaders of yesterdays,
To-day they are called the politicians of changing thoughts.
They read less and teaches a lot,
Often without even understanding and following,
The principals of humanity and law of Torts.
They breathe for Money and their belief is Money,
Their aim to live on this earth is Money,
They live for money and they worship Money like God.
The time of those wonderful great leaders like Gandhi,
The time of those history maker’s great men like Lincoln,
May never be possible on this Earth.
As the time of selfless devotion for a cause,
As the time of showing the world a new path, now goes through,
The jungles of irremovable Money Grass, Money trees and Money rocks.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 08th August 2010.
Mountains were made for poets --
for dramtic scales and harrowing descents. For
lofty subjects and deeper, fumarole vents -- many
are volcanic you know. Some active,
others sleeping, as those creative dry-spells~
no word-glows with the ashes. When carefully
placing my dots and dashes, counting often unruly
syllables, contemplating scriptor's tempting easy-rhymes,
word-candy, for poetic sound-effects, reminded I am of canned
laughter, not needed when Saturday Night
Live was yet funny. Had real entertainment substance.
My first book of mountains admittedly needed
more height, did not adhere to principals of careful oversight.
Honesty with self, and stacks of rejections have been
my maturing lifts and refining propellers. Don't give up. Lots
of knowlegeable-beans and more spicy life-seasoning has helped fuel my
linguistic evacuation. As Poe may have also been implying
when he said, what we "see and seem", do not necessarily equate
to a publisher's eclectic ream. What do they know anyway?:)
In the land of "If" somewhere this side of forgotten dreams
the world is very foggy and nothing is as it seems
There are no deadlines or plans
things just happen as they may
There are no new commitments made
nothing beyond today
For the land of If is living in the moment
but without working for your dreams
Your dreams are somehow forgotten
among everyday ordinary things
And you have no firm goals
beyond the few basic cares
and you are in stasis
and the daily grind seems to wear
the land of if, is for you to fill with your dreams
you only need to remember them
and put plans down to earn
For anything you can think of is possible too,
though the dates and times and persons may change
as things go along they are skewed.
But the intent it to reach nirvana the things that will bring you to bliss
and to not live a life wondering what you did miss
Money, fame, power, unconditional love
are all available to anyone and are not a mystery above
We can get what we dream of if we only make a plan.
And work it every day, and on our principals make a stand
So make your land of "IF" a realization of your dreams
and life will never be the same again I promise you, its as easy as it seems
The Land of "If" For Tye (C) copyright Friday April 6, 2007 - Artimus AKA Susan Manley
The authors and their associates wish to offer an enthusiastic round of applause to The Bywater Bone Boys Social Aid and Pleasure Club for their gracious hospitality and inspirational charm.
Welcome gentle enthusiasts of theatrical illusions and histrionic fantasias. We of the acting company, including principals, chorus, stage crew and assorted hangers-on, take delight in your presence during our current stand under arms.
As it is commonly accepted in the developed world that all sophisticated theatergoers embrace an inherent desire to remain consistent with the norms of congenial social behavior when sitting beneath the unblinking eye of public scrutiny, management requests that you please observe a few sensible restrictions while enjoying today’s feature presentation.
Restrictions, being defined as the limitation or control of someone or something, or the state of being limited or restricted, as determined by municipal ordinance and local custom, shall remain in effect throughout the duration of the entire performance.
Special-needs patrons will be accommodated according to modifications set forth in appropriate documentation that carries the force of law. Non-compliance will not be tolerated. There will be one fifteen-minute intermission during which relevant stakeholders will receive formative evaluation rubrics to document the results of item analysis.
Only flash-less photography is permitted. You must remain at least partially clothed at all times during the performance. No bullying will be tolerated, and you do not need to ask for permission to go to the bathroom. Now cross your knees and avert your eyes. The show is about to begin. Laissez le bon temp rouler!