Long Profession Poems
Long Profession Poems. Below are the most popular long Profession by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Profession poems by poem length and keyword.
I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...
Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed,
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
I'd say,
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised.
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate? If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us.
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow.
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you.
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep
20FabelSEVEN
Charlexes Fabels
Gardenor
A Mexican sweat is just a teepee with a fire made hotter and a rock placed where
you can pour the water on the hot rock to make some steam come up and they
add some pine to make a smell so sweet to tired alcoholic lidded eye eye did my
time cold TURKEY and never needed one. One man who works in landscaping
as the gardenor becomes too busy to notice the other man escaping on the
sidewalk it is the thief the gardenor is using both his hands in his effort for
release the other man in shadow land appearance coinciding with the worker
there just thinking while he is walking hands in pocket just holding on to nothing
as he sort of Saunders bye? Saunders
For over 60 years Saunders Manufacturing in Readfield, Maine has made top
quality Form Holders and Clipboards for millions of customers worldwide. Now
our new Portable Desktop line continues the tradition. Just a coincidence please
Gentile reader ewe must understand the non commercial usage of this poem
business. A Random act of kindness to your senses.
Charles (surname)
Charles is a given name for males, and has its origins in Common Germanic
where it originally was used to indicate a free man, but not one belonging to the
nobility.
While eye was typing this the contact email on the link opened up into a brand
new page and never made connected to the name? please people if you put the
actual name of your email address then we the customers can copy and then
past the thing and then you could have read my fable and had a much better day
oh Mr. and the Mrs. Saunders. The Gardenor may read this missive iff eye bother
to make the translation into Spanish for the bulk males of the working force is
Mexicans.
GARDINER: From the Danish for "garden keeper." A noble profession and a vivid
name. Relatives: Gardener, Gardenor, Gardner, Gardnard, Garden, Gar.
Namesakes: Erle Stanley Gardner, John Gardner. Eye am just a Charles
derivative a CHARLAX iff ewe will of some great import a relic not a derelict of
duty a lover never a fighter a want to be husband to the ewe oh ewe please smile
as ewe aer reading this one and be sure.
Jealousy is never meant to make us harm but only to make love come back so
strong to make the other one in love return a little stronger than she was before
the Jealousy.
Jesus is the great high priest
who ministers before God's throne
on behalf of the elected redeemed
being the believer's chief cornerstone
The priests in the past stood daily
offering sacrifices for sin forever
but these failed to deal with sin
only the perfect high priest could deliver
Jesus made Himself the perfect sacrifice
by one offering His own are sanctified
what a picture this conveys His grace
this Jesus gave Himself as He died
This great high priest makes intercession
for those He redeemed by His blood
so those can draw near with a true heart
full of faith like a great flood
What a privilege we have been given
to have such a great high priest
Jesus our saviour is seated at God's hand
eternally on our case never to cease
(Hebrews 10:8-18
Modern English Version
8 Previously when He said, “You did not desire sacrifices and offerings. You have had no pleasure in burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin,” which are offered in accordance with the law, 9 then He said, “See, I have come to do Your will, O God.” He takes away the first that He may establish the second. 10 By this will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.
11 But every priest stands daily ministering and repetitively offering the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. 12 But this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down at the right hand of God. 13 Since that time He has been waiting for His enemies to be made His footstool. 14 For by one offering He has forever perfected those who are sanctified.
15 The Holy Spirit also witnesses to us about this. For after saying,
16 “This is the covenant that I will make with them
after those days, says the Lord:
I will put My laws into their hearts,
and in their minds I will write them,”
17 then He adds,
“Their sins and lawless deeds
will I remember no more.”
18 Now where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer an offering for sin.
21 and since we have a High Priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse them from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water. 23 Let us firmly hold the profession of our faith without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.)
She kept walking, kept travelling...
A Traveller by profession, she kept exploring.
With a pure and kindest heart inside her soul,
She was pretty easy to pick, easy to be fooled.
Her feet reached a small town,
Tired, she was happy to have it found-
And hoped for some water and food,
With her kind eyes, she now intrudes...
In a small village, with no roof.
She asked for some food,
If she gets, she will pay them good.
But All they did was to cry in front of her-
A pure soul, sang a song there,
Her heart couldn't keep up with the utter cries-
And she gave them what was with her, to see their eyes dry.
With everything given, she proceeded bareheaded and barefoot-
All she got was the happiness from helping those troops.
With sparkling eyes, she headed forward-
And saw an old lady, sobbing, cuddled up.
Not noticing the suspicious air around, she thus proceeded-
With nothing, but a body- bare and naked.
Didn't want to appear in front of others,
She ran to the nearby forest, in the southern.
She walked shivering, yet with kind gaze,
And met the forest demons, hungry and desperate.
She noticed, yet she smiled, as a mist.
She opened her arms, inviting them for the feast.
All she did was to help others, she did her job well, I guess.
In return, got nothing but more and more pleases.
She offered her arms, her limbs, her feet-
As she pitied the hunger of the demonic beings.
All that was left was her head, rolling around-
The last demon took out a kind eye and licked it, very much bound.
"Here is a gift from us demons" he said and flew away-
Leaving a piece of paper, leaving the one-eyed head for decay.
She rolled out her eyes, with the strength she had left with her-
To look at the gift the demon left as an honor.
'IDIOT!' it said, said the piece of paper...
Tears rolled from her eye; she couldn't feel more satisfied from her works.
"Thank you!" a mumble came from her mouth, and she smiled-
"It's my first return gift! Thankyou!" Were the last words that came from her mouth.
Her one-eyed head now rested for eternity, no more kind deeds to be done.
Ah, The cry! The song of the dead bird sure was a pitiful one.
Never heard a pure soul rest so peacefully in this world.
??????
They all sit there lined up in a row
Not knowing when exactly when to go
Decisions are made on the image they are looking for
As the applicants mumble at the door.
Mommas got cash
Let those pass
The Agent said
Wondering if they knew how to play dead underneath the bed.
Here comes another one
Participating in the audition after getting some sun
Shez a factor the agent said and could be a fine actor
Take a picture with her in blood
And bet you bottom dollar she is not going to be a dud.
Two more come in
Being a sweet photogenic twin
And having what it takes to win
A prize which is the opportunity to hear some more lies
Maybe this is just something
Like a guy giving them a ring.
Pick up the phone
“I am alone,” she could say
About this selection process for a scene to roll in the hay
During this time when they know she is out of money
And reality states they are only there to be called honey
Having the only worry being ‘if tomorrow is going to be sunny’.
When asked to defend
Its for the men
They do state
Hoping a date will turn into a lifelong mate.
In this game where no one knows their name
One may ask about money
When the success is being a bunny
This is nothing new
In a profession that ends with “I Do”
Yes, no she is waiting for an answer
On whether she is the corpse of the principal dancer.
When she gets the green light to be in the dying fight
She gets pumped up with all the might
“How much should I show?”
She asks with a glow.
Just enough
the guys want to see your inside stuff.
Finally, they get cast as the damsel getting the gas
Ready to meet a monster with a dangerous tool
And not expecting to end up just body parts in a bloody pool.
It only takes a day and hopefully there will be pay
But if not, the picture taken could be considered hot.
Everything is fine if it looks good
Especially if the B movie talent has it all together underneath their hood.
Do not be worried since it’s just the character that is going to be buried
Then after weeks in the theater what will be sweeter
A shot on a magazine cover that begs for men to love her.
Soon the check will come
And it will be done
Once the payment goes through and she tells the one man in her life “I do”
I wandered the vastness of the universe
Just to meet you here
I considered many life times to glimpse
Your adorable essence
I explored the magical land of Atlantis
Even the technological Lemuria
I lived a couple of thousands of years in Sumeria
And learned to spoke magical words
I lived with the hundreds of lambs in Syria
To learn how to live with them in the barren land
I was in Mongolia to learn how to cook food
And created my own menu
I was with the Emperor and Empress of Japan
To be one of their counsels
I was once a daughter of a peasant in Italy
Learned to live with a single meal a day
I learned to fly an airplane in France
And leave my profession for marriage
I craved to wrote songs in Canada
But still longed for someone I knew
I was with you in the battle ground of ancient Egypt
I learned how to kill and to be killed then
I tried to discover more about myself
Lived inside a cave of mountainous Indonesia
I entered the great temple of India
To learn how to be the master of my surroundings
But died when a mysterious epidemic spread
I created more thoughts and realized inside a cell in Chile
And killed myself for an escape to my wrong ordeals
I existed again to work on my rippled karma
I visited the temples of Tibet to find peace
I discovered how to heal myself
And every person I tormented
I roamed around the great City of Brazil
But to no avail I never saw someone like you
I remembered why I am here then
I still chased you in further ground of Incas
But nothing happened
You still left me for another person
I continued to soar within this land
And was killed while counting miles across the sea of England
I explored the lessons of to be abandoned
As I always waited for this love
I was catapulted again in the battle fields of the Philippines
Where I was killed in an ambush with my three comrades
Yet my desire never materialized
I returned here being wary you was out of life again
I decided to go back to the golden planet
But escaped before the capsule like craft flown
While have had a thought in mind
That I am expected you to came
And now finally we bumped each other again
This will be the last life I shall chose to see you
Since I planned long before this moment
I will be home where I am from
And be one with my sparks.
Do you realize that your "LIFE IS IMPORTANT": SO BE IT AND SO IT IS!Will you in your understanding realize and try to have some "Happiness" and have "GOOD INTENTIONS" for your fellow human beings? Bad intentions for your fellow human beings ,no matter what their "Religious Faith" sends "The One With Bad "Intentions to "Hell for "Eternity"!!!!!!! Your "SOUL and SPIRIT "is "IMPORTANT",so strive and keep that thing in.........tact.......run and tell that!!You ought to run and "TELL THAT"! Jesus Christ came "OUT" from "GOD"!The "HOLY SPIRIT"came out from "THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY": THERE IS "ONE SPIRIT"and that is "THE SPIRIT IS THE SPIRIT THAT CREATED THE ONLY BEGOTTEN SON OF THE LIVING GOD WHO IS JESUS CHRIST!THE HOLY SPIRIT CAME OUT FROM GOD JUST LIKE JESUS CHRIST!"The "ONE HOLY SPIRIT"is going to "TAKE OVER""EVERYTHING" FOR "THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY"WHOES "HOLY NAME IS "JEHOVAH" WHO "ALLAH" PRAYS TO!ALLAH PRAYS TO JEHOVAH WHO IS "SOVEREIGN",as "LORD GOD ALMIGHTY OVER ALLAH OR ANY WHO CALLS THEMSELVES "GOD"!ALLAH OR ANY GOD GETS ON THEIR KNEES ,AND "PRAYS TO "THE HOLY NAME OF THE OF GOD "JEHOVAH" !LOOK up the names of god and you will find that ALLAH is "NOT" a name of "GOD"! ALLAH is a GOD that must pray to"THE HOLY NANE OF THE LIVING GOD"WHO IS "JEHOVAH"!LOOK up the names of god,and allah "IS NOT A NAME OF GOD"!Your "BODY is "Important",and you may drink so you must think,and be concerned about that body,aqnd keep it healthy,and not let it stink from too much drink!!!!!It is "IMPORTANT" to be ,,"LOVING",SINCERE,COMPASSIONATE,and "HAVE GOOD INTENTIONS"or you will "DIE"!!!!! BAD INTENTIONS LETS YOU DIE EARLY FOR THOSE WHO TREAT YOU"GOOD"!!!!!!!IT IS "IMPORTANT TO HAVE "GOOD INTENTIONS FOR THOSE WHO YOU COME IN CONTACT WITH OR "THE BAD "INTENTIONS THAT YOU HAVE FOR THOSE YOU COME IN CONTACT WITH WILL COME TO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY WITHOUT FAIL FOR SURE!"ACHIEVE SOMETHING GOOD" SO THAT "YOU AND YOUR FAMILY WILL BE A PART OF THAT WHICH IS "BEAUTIFUL"!!!BAD INTENTIONS FOR A PERSON WHO IS ACHIEVING SOMETHING GOOD WILL SEND THAT PERSON TO "HELL"FOR SURE :NO MATTER WHAT THEIR WORK OR PROFESSION! THAT IS GOOD!TAKING AWAY "WOMENS RIGHTS" BY "REPUBLICANS" WHO TRY TO MAKE "THE U.S.A" LIKE AFGANISTAN IS REALLY WHY REPUBLICANS WILL BE VOTED OUT OF "POLITICAL OFFICE FOREVER!
From devadasi in temples to women of the streets,
Form hooker to harlot,
From courtesan to call girl,
Whether a paramour in the hands of wealth,
Or a Whore engaging in promiscuous sexual intercourse,
So many names and so many fames,
Above all I am a human being too,
Often referred as the lady of the evenings,
People forget that I also have mornings,
I use my body for lewd purposes,
But this is my job may be the worst of all,
This is not for pleasure, greed or money,
I am trapped to this vicious world,
These callous men turned me a used good,
Now whom to be blamed?
This society calls me ‘Characterless’
Because I pledged my dignity for this profession,
May be the oldest of all,
I never dreamt of marriage,
I am an impoverished cultural outcast,
I am excommunicated,
I work in darkness,
And that’s why people fail to see me in light,
But Menaka, Rambha, Urvashi, and Thilothamma,
The celestial demigods – who are they?
Indian mythology says this as high-class prostitution?
This is the harsh reality,
I spare myself for making you elated
But you brand me the “curse of this society “
I never look at my mirror with joy
My own reflection titters at me
I see only destation and revulsion around me,
I scream in agony and excruciation
But for people they are pleasure sounds and sex noises,
I have dissolved my high spirits in the ocean of Hedone
Where my conventionality and morality have gone invisible,
Now I stand before this society as a misanthropist,
An elite lady – who changes her boy friend every now and then,
I love my John just for few minutes,
I eventually break up for the next John to stay,
When I walk down the streets I never look up,
For the eyes of women fend off,
For the eyes of men fond off,
They rate me based on complexion,
Being a black seducer I am paid low
But none discovered my hearts white glow,
From a lad to a gray man,
All try to touch my skin,
But none so far have tried to touch my soul
For them I am a doll – without feelings or pain,
But for me no pain no gain,
I can never change this world,
Or the way they treat me,
Likewise I can never change myself,
Or the way I treat my men.
I am searching my bright future in the night,
And I call this my nocturnal life.
BY,
MADHUPRIYA SHANMUGAM
Form:
I knew my ancestry and my dad was a joiner,
But verged on disowning my mum for labour,
Not married in history yet throbbing with spark,
Love, truth, kindness fibered the gelled dark.
A stunner - intelligent, muscular but sensitive,
The royal in me saw the people as plaintiff,
As steering the vile lark of determining troughs,
In a grass-roots democracy to nullify the toffs.
Prolific at speeches, education never lacked,
Peeking as child into the ear in discern I jacked,
I knew nothing was unproven, cleanliness won,
Joules inside quenched the human sown son.
In the health profession I beamed, overcame, won,
Differences waged exacted to desecrate the sum -
Poor, minority, stealthy and dragon ignored asunder,
No equality known to hook the solid, base shelter.
Mobile, but wherever I tread met haters and lovers,
Pranced about suckered by vulgar ruling bearers;
Taught children life and followers’ carers’ quick,
Stead ahead hailed by the people as their wick.
Freedom held my blink until shown as the trait -
Real by weight for the sick to crop myself as bait.
Therefore human aim, space, time shouted ball,
‘Cos the individual is right, by the pinnacle, wall.
My twelve friends accepted my way and my mind,
Chose to love crook, crank or by altruism behind,
Meant rear - banned and ashore, but fully sentient,
No restorative, candid deeds to strike ambivalent.
People glued came to see me - the Nile drawn,
Dealt troubles without ways n’ routes to spawn;
Yet state and common folks both, themselves,
Killed me for a movement shooting with shelves.
But those many who loved me would never forget,
Forged sail by the integral identity never truly set:
They said afterwards that my substance, way, holds,
It’s life that affords me, not the shined, bold folds.
There was a court case and everything, a slot,
When they asked if I was a god, king, mad, a shot:
Dumb. Bitter I’d gone and cut short, they said I’d live,
Within them as their memory as the cultural give.
My existence is not a point - your location, for always:
It’s not belief in me that matters but it's your sways;
Your life is important and it's your existence that calls,
MLK, Lincoln, Walker ball for the sentient, rugged stalls.
Who am I?
A profession that's not the norm.
It borders on the absurd.
In the mountains and down the hollers,
powerful engines could be heard.
I decided to try something new.
Put my driving skills to the test.
Driving from Harlan County to Asheville,
It didn't end well, you might have guessed.
The city fathers got together,
figuring how to make it all work.
Everyone involved in this illegal trade,
from the mayor to the town clerk.
The hillbillies brew the dew.
Most of it safe, some burns red.
Uncle Jessie tried it once.
His eyes rolled back and he dropped dead.
Billie Ray had a hot rod '50 Ford.
Was a race car, lost more than it won.
We popped the trunk, man it was huge.
Perfect for the nightly Asheville run.
In the trunk was a steel tank.
Loaded hooch made the car ride low.
Truck springs took care of the problem.
Now the truck no longer hauls cargo.
Beneath the rear bumper were nozzles.
A switch inside made the oil flow.
When a revenuer was chasing you,
in the rearview, was quite the show.
I always wanted to drive.
Thought this life would be exciting.
Told to keep away from this game.
It's dangerous hauling white lightning.
Blazing out of Harlan County.
At first, it went fairly smooth.
Problems I planned for didn't happen.
I got settled into a groove.
Bo Duke, he would've been proud,
when I jumped the gap at Cumberland.
Crossed the stream at Maynardville.
The engine died, it's not going as planned.
I finally got it restarted.
Pretended I was driving the Grand Prix.
Ahead, I saw the tail lights of the g-man.
Oh, snap! they're supposed to be chasing me!
I pulled off the exit for Knoxville.
Checked the map, found Kingston Pike.
I heard this in a song before.
Outside of Bearden, they were planning to strike.
Kept going in spite of the tune.
There they were, waiting to spring.
Blocking the road, no way to get by,
I lost control, spun into this big electrical thing.
The car quickly caught fire.
The door was jammed, options were few.
It was like an atom bomb going off,
when the flames caught the Mountain Dew.
The next night, my funeral was held.
Played a song about some bird in a tree.
The car lights, they stretched for miles.
This life I guess was not for me.