Long Professionally Poems
Long Professionally Poems. Below are the most popular long Professionally by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Professionally poems by poem length and keyword.
Destiny arrived on a Tuesday,
in a box marked
FRAGILE: REGAL.
I signed for it in my slippers,
holding half a piece of toast.
Inside: a sapphire crown.
No instructions.
Just joy,
heavy and brilliant
as the midwinter sky.
Naturally,
I took it out.
I didn’t wear it—I carried it.
The rain applauded.
Every puddle on the footpath
tried to catch its reflection.
A magpie, professionally suspicious,
followed me for three blocks,
hoping I was a very shiny chip.
At the crossing,
waiting in the drizzle,
I cradled my glittering fate.
A tradie’s ute splashed past.
I didn't flinch.
Instead, I gave the driver a slow,
magnificent, regal wave.
He honked, entirely confused.
I grinned like a fool.
At the bakery,
the woman with the tongs said,
“Special occasion?”
“Apparently,” I said,
carrying destiny in both hands
like a cake too beautiful to cut.
By dusk, even the clouds
had put on their best
sapphire hue.
I still had no kingdom,
no horse,
no useful instructions—
only a sapphire crown in my arms
and the extraordinary feeling
that winter,
at last,
had remembered my name.
We were parallel walking
she asked if I found [famous person] attractive
I sucked a thoughtful tooth (as if)
and said I'm not one to fawn over
minor celebrities
she said fawn I said yes fawn
But if [famous person] was here now
I'd attach myself to her legs and let her
drag me through the mud
like an I don't know what
the metaphor failed me. She said
Like a dangleberry.
I don't know what you mean, and obv.
which is short for obviously
as an alpha male I am not one to submit
to be dragged away anyway and yet
in this instance [famous person] would have to
beat me off, stop it, that's enough now
I mean her magnificent legs which
in this unlikely scenario I have attached myself to
remember
Honestly, I wish I'd never started this
she said me too
and that was that
for the rest
of our walk
Vril Dox of Colu
we kind interest in our fan base.
By provind exceptional customer and consumer experiences
we found that personilize the experience to
local and regional items and people
allows our product to be recognized and appreciated.
The value of coupling one thing to another
to help people solve everyday problems.
"The dryer goes best with the washer theory;but an ole fashion clothesline can save the day"
proactively requesting reviews at the right time,
making the submission process easy, and responding professionally to all feedback,
taking negative experiences and making them positive
product seller and product purchasers are always mentioned
in business exchanges
whether it is
company to company
or customer to company
Spoke Allan Scott of
Express Railway LLC.
Esther’s apartment is almost the same
As it was when she lived in its space.
Her son and her daughter-in-law (my dear friend)
Live there now and her vibe they embrace.
All her furniture’s there and her dishes and lamps
And the paintings of many a child
(Even Esther), plus one of a rabbi and all
By her father, professionally styled.
For the last twenty years of her life, Esther made
The apartment a welcoming home,
Where her family, including great-grandchildren, came,
Never thinking they’d be in a poem.
But my favorite thing was the album, quite big,
Of her wedding, a gala affair,
All the images captured in black and white shots
With a true 1950-type flair.
Esther’s spirit lives on, which would not be the case
If my friend and her husband weren’t there,
But they’ve honored her past as their future is made
Which, to me, seems so special and rare.
All I could afford
Was loitering at Stu Wards
Having a draft
Rooty tooty in beer craft
When suddenly
It was not funny
A feeling I was done
No longer welcome
It was twilight gleaming
Star struck with meaning
Then like it was on cue
Supporter fan Echo Zulu
Exclaimed Woo Hoo
Leaving these resentful two
Screaming critically boo boo
This attitude made me leave
After wiping my foul mouth on me sleave
Headed then to an Italian kitchen
Hour close to be witching
Stomach needing protection
Pizza Bianca was the late-night selection
Winning the food fetish election
Took some time
Enjoyed the dine
Before taking a joy ride
No needing a guide
Up the scenic rout
To the twin lights where I was going to shout
From the paved cliff viewing defined Corniche
Independent from any financial commitment leash
Making a wish
Dreaming a gigantic fish
Will work with my look
Baited on the photogenic hook
Still at peace
About the decision giving me a release
On their terms
Being concern
Staying firm
What was learned
Feeling burned
Interpreting the modern games rules
Written by fools
Stating to have success
Reported in the press
You need fortune and fame
For everyone to know your name
Standing here I do declare
Showing a glaring stare
Sending out a dare
Stating nothing can compare
Since success came to me fair
And square
Leaving power players professionally scared
I can't play a single musical instrument to save my life.
I guess I could if I really tried, but who has the time
to put aside and sacrifice other pleasures that I indulge religously,
my poetry, love of photography and most importantly,
quality time spent often with my fur babies,
but all is not lost with today's technology.
Computer programs presently allow me
to play any musical instrument professionally,
well, not exactly.
I can program any musical instrument at whatever tone or speed,
or combination thereof to compose a musical masterpiece.
Bucket List Item #, oh whatever, just do it eventually;
Compose And Perform
One Of The Greatest Music Orchestrations Ever Released,
even though it will only truly be
composed and performed by me virtually
with computer programing technology.
Jonathan was a self-employed plumber,
Before a diagnosis of corneal dystrophy,
So he moved out as a plumbing worker,
And began playing judo professionally.
He’d done judo as a youth, came easy,
And won his 1st dan at the age of 18,
So took his first senior competition flee,
In the 2010 Welsh Open, he was mean.
Jono also suffers from ADHD, tells others,
And in 2013 took the gold in the US Open,
In the 2014 Grand Prix, bronze feathers,
And at the 2014 Worlds took bronze token.
In 2015 at the Eger World Cup, Hungary,
Jono tangled and fought to take the bronze,
And in Rio he came fifth in -81kg category,
Against fighter Rovshan Safarov, no cons.
The Divine Gift
We can, with a certain degree of accuracy, gauge one's intellectual quotient level through an assortment of tests at any given age of their educated life, and subsequent years, either professionally and or leisurely.
When asked, what would be the quotient level of my soul, that can be easily ascertained by somebody professionally engaged in the field of psychology or one's country pastor or similar bound vocation, if they'd be one.
Whenever I am asked of myself, bears a challenge from the get-go as it borders on conceit.
To say, for instance, I am a loving person is untrue for it begs interpretation, liken to 'agape', beyond whereto, it becomes dependent upon others to ascertain the measure of its worth, albeit, does not stop there for therein, lies on variables as no two or more opinions, are ever the same.
How long does that person know me, or, how close of a relationship is that person to me, as a family member or as a friend?
Going back to conceit, or rather I say, that I bear to venture the thought that I leave quotient of my soul to the interests of others to judge.
Humble am I, nay, for that too is subjective.
Nevertheless, begs the question, what is the quotient of my soul?
I do not think of my soul to be higher than others, nor do I think of my soul to be lesser than others.
I would like to think less on the subject of my soul is the best answer, methinks.
I believe the soul is a divine gift, that shines for others to see, and that providence keeps not in my mind, but as the spirit within my heart.
2019 May 29
*2nd Place*
Soul IQ
~~Chantelle Anne Cooke
He carried the oxygen from one room to another but the smallest effort cost.
The air was fresh but the breath wouldn't catch and coughing.
He wondered how his plan was left unfulfilled.
He had used every human he had ever come in contact with.
And now after living with his sister and her husband for thirty years he was finished.
This was his life and the cough.
He sat stirring his coffee and ate a pastry with his tooth.
That was what he had one tooth and his famous cough.
He was a professional and his lung had quit.
No one had told him that the lung would do this but it had.
Most wouldn't believe he professionally coughed but the cough did.
And that is what mattered and smoking.
Smoking and waiting to die was all he had.
Lying in the hospital bed and staring at the tv screen.
The doctor said the cancer had moved into the lung.
He said that he wanted to run the test but medicare wouldn't pay for it.
Should have got that insured by Geico and wanting a cigarette.
This is a true story about my Uncle Charles who is alone but for my Mothrer ,Father and Me
The enlistment oath he took gravely to fulfill his obligation,
To defend the Constitution and to honorably serve his nation
He always looked sharp, wearing the Air Force blue with pride,
Adhering to the values of God and country was his constant guide.
He always prepared meticulously for every stand-by inspection.
From head to toe he was a model of military perfection.
For this inspection his accessories were carefully selected.
Everything must be perfect, not one detail was neglected.
It took a great deal of time to see that he was properly dressed.
Sharp military creases for his long-sleeved shirt were pressed.
His jacket and trousers were professionally steamed and cleaned.
Strings and lint from his uniform were carefully gleaned.
The creases in his trousers were as sharp as a razor blade.
Rows of ribbons for honors won were upon his breast displayed.
His metal insignia were polished, and, oh, how they glowed!
Now, all was in readiness for inspection and in its proper mode.
The gallant airman was not preparing to march in a parade.
Alas, he was dressed in funereal clothes and in his coffin laid.
For this, his final inspection, he was immaculately dressed.
'Tis for certain that his Creator will surely be impressed!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)