Long Probate Poems
Long Probate Poems. Below are the most popular long Probate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Probate poems by poem length and keyword.
The essence of wit is brevity
which interestingly evinces chivalry
delivered verdict to hex hoar size
(once and for all) president
dons mantle of deviltry
and trumps constitutional credo
defining American elementary
particular edicts denoting, enshrining,
framing, grand honorable inalienable rights
when foolhardy lobbyists prevail
evicting execrable“enemy”
i.e. forward thinking (progressively liberal)
which subsequently might help
timid citizens to invoke probate, procure, produce cojones
in opposition against rabidly power hungry,
misogynistic courting among the body politik
fostering future feverish fortuity,
toward risking life and limb sans
Uncle Sam selfless gratuity
(especially as Benjamin Button syndrome –
reverses aging process
acquired thru heredity
gets in full swing) stamping mindset
nonestablishmentarian identity
with my Kosher blessing despite any infamy
permission to go ahead with jocularity
from a superstar coach named Kennedy
thereby garnering homespun liberty
where icon bank on direct
laudable, linkedin longevity
with unrolled Scottish grandeur
(Pomp and Circumstance broadcast)
synchronized with precise
unrolled welcome mat
yule receive granted “FAKE” feted soiree
as curtain call doth close toward
final decade of mortality
yet dismiss bing hash-tagged
a scofflaw at any opportunity
especially if legislated mandate
earmarked as priority
in tandem with the key quality
apothegm stipulates decrease sing sanity
as the hands of father time
spin (Doktor Dude Little) backward
away from present day turbidity
increasing revanchism uber victory.
Remember me
Your beloved mother
In the low hours
Whenever you are feeling weak
And have lowered
Your powerful barriers
For it's then I can only be truly seen
Remember me
As that tsunami of furious fire
That once reenergized you
In dark years
When you were alone and tired
To be wholly free
Remember me
By looking at my picture
Of us together
Your now favourite
Black and white one
I sent you
As my holy scripture
That you'll only need
Remember me when you too are old
Standing brightly as the early morning sun
In the darkness of old age
Even though your beloved memories are getting cold
Before God turns your page
So you can fade away
To join me
As the hours and seconds
Run away
Remember me
So I may stay
In some strange spiritual way
To give you comfort
Until you too are recalled
To float away
Someday
Remember me
My poetic love
So I can come to you
In dreams
Walking down to find you
Through the ethereal blue rivers and green
Underground streams
To reach you to swim
Together
Reunited
In the Holy Sea
Until the early morning sunrise
Remember me
As your true spiritual devotion
Who you met in physical flesh
As one
Who wrote down
In a pre-life road map
With a spirit guide
In another
Far away nation
“I want to meet someone so extraordinary
A child of mine
Someone so special to be a member of my own tribe
Who will show me such poetic wonders”
“That my heart will open up its velvety doors and ask to be possessed as it pleads to confess
Before I once more walk
In those heavenly tides
Of the Holy Sea”
And then I suddenly met you at birth
Mesmerised
By all I could see
So that's why I pray
For you
Each night
So you'll remember me
As I wait here
Walking barefoot and alone
In the swirling tides
Of The Holy Sea
Waiting
for the one to love me again
I once wrote down before I was born
The only one I'll ever need
Just remember me
It's why I left this letter in my will
For you
My beloved to read
Just remember me
Your beloved mother
Who loves you like no other
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
It was Halloween and a week at my new job as a broker in real estate,
we have a new listing, an old Victorian, after years being stuck in probate.
My boss excitedly told me the address, smiling as I felt dread and panic,
I secretly remember visiting that creepy place years ago, feeling frantic.
He tells me I must go there tonight to make sure it’s secure and not left open.
Darkness settling in as I walked to my car, praying the lock is not broken.
Memories flooding back, I was sixteen when exploring that home one night,
we were teenagers looking for a thrill, wanting to explore the haunted site.
We entered the home one night, laughing about the rumored doom and gloom.
The floors creaked, as the chandelier started to flicker in the living room.
Frozen in fear, seeing shadows of human silhouettes descending the stairs,
glowing eyes and growling from something living near the antique chairs.
We ran out of there, never to go back, swearing to keep that night a secret,
we knew we were not supposed to be there and that no one would believe it!
Trying to forget while walking down the driveway with my flashlight and mace,
there it was, the old Queen Ann Victorian with a turret and shutters all in place.
I tried to relax as I climbed the brick stairs to the huge gothic wooden door.
The door was left open, I stood there frozen, fearful of what might be in store.
I quickly grabbed the knob, locked the door, slammed it shut and ran to my car,
I then heard growling, looked back and saw glowing eyes and the door now ajar!
Mommy and Daddy left everything to their favorite child, Bruce.
Bruce is also their self-centered, selfish child, but they did not see it.
Bruce came to visit once a year; he was their prodigal son.
They adored him, he was their everything.
Their daughter Sarah sat in disbelief at the probate office.
When had the will been changed?
She had taken care of her parents all of their lives.
Bruce now owned her home, she would have to move.
She asked if she could buy the house, but he said no.
She asked for her mother’s pearl necklace.
And her Daddy’s plaid jacket.
Two more no’s from the prodigal son.