Long Puller Poems
Long Puller Poems. Below are the most popular long Puller by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Puller poems by poem length and keyword.
The poor are lazy, languid, and loafing – the rich rut,
Is this why many people of my nation have no hut?
Isn't the concept: every rich is industrious, a myth?
Isn't there a great gulf betwixt a blacksmith and a goldsmith...?
I know my rickshaw-puller neighbor, born in penury,
His ancestors were poor too for many a century;
Can I judge his hardships his sin or the sin of his dad?
Or the transgression of a system that has gone so bad...?
I have seen the rich climbing the ladder of life briskly,
The branches of trees of mammon, they catch hold so quickly;
Hard work and calculative effort, no doubt, are in them,
Don't cells of dishonesty occupy their root and stem...?
By tilling the earth and breaking rocks pennies the poor earn,
In torn rags they shiver in cold; in summer sun they burn;
Is begging a fashion that the poor bejewel them with?
Doesn't shame cut them to pieces, within, like grass in a scythe?
Poverty is a curse and not a blessing, the world knows,
Hunger, thirst, homelessness, and illnesses paucity sows;
Undernourished children, like cattle, are pushed to labor,
The poor are, often, abhorred and loathed by each rich neighbor...!
Isn't fighting poverty a duty of every person?
Doesn't, by the vile of inequality, crises worsen?
God has made the mammon for all - this fact each one should know,
The concept of living and letting live, each should follow...!!!
28 March 2023
Writing Challenge - 'P' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Tired War,Release the Monkeys
They tried to nail my boot to the floor
No nail puller
My influence won the day
I was the monkey man
Earn the right
I want to ask
Just for a little more time
Growing life growing tree
just to lose it
Can't you see
Life got to be better
Once I lit that cigarette Ocean of tomorrows
Swells
Fasten our belts
There's air escaping This world has a leak
Just before a cats shadow beyond the hill
Against the grayish stucco plastered wall
Fortune of forever
Now its in your face
Fear fear fear
its all coming together
Together
Why I fear completion
Or falling apart
Put your mind in another place
Seeing the sun cut out to shade
I promise to do enough
oxygen enough empty space for you
To have another cigarette
Well I can't say that you suck
Unless I can do better
But even then
I saw monkeys
Hooked up to masks
I wondered who is actually murdering their ass
Well the monkey mysteriously went away
Hope take me away from tragedy
My old friend stayed
Giving death sentences like belonging to some hell bent regime
The trumpets sounded
I let it finish
I faded into forget
Odin looked confused, and Thor did too,
But none of us bothered to wait
Ten thousands years of warrior souls,
Charged the dark foe right out of the gate.
My boys they shot out Fenris’s eyes,
And the old 7th cav, they rode in
Slashing hard with drawn, curving sabers,
They cut off the monster’s four shins.
The wolf he roared, and his great mouth flared
Blood-read teeth set in wide-open jaws…
But a slew of TOW missiles leapt from the lines
And streaked into the beast’s gaping maw.
The wolf he collapsed, trailing gray smoke,
But Fenris’s life had yet to be spent
So the samurai charged, long katanas drawn
And his flesh they chopped up and rent.
Up came Jorumgandre, the world serpent
Expecting a loud chorus of screams.
Instead he went up in a fiery rage,
Bombed by a hundred B-17s.
A breaching charge set against his flank,
Tore a great, gaping hole in his side
And the Boys of Dunkirk rushed in headlong,
Shooting up his guts ‘till he died.
Then Surtr drew near, his big sword aflame
Ready to bash, to burn, to lay waist
But along came the treads of Patton’s brigades,
And shelled his ankles to make them break.
Surtr fell back and was lost to a swarm
Of plaid Highlanders dense, in a charge.
And when they sheathed swords, all that remained
Was a corpse, quite unusually large!
Finally came dread Loki, marching along
At his back the great host of Muspell.
But from the rear came Puller and US marines,
And to that dark horde, they brought hell!
As they fought, the Berserkers, they charged
Norsemen delivering the last blow,
The horde crumbled quick, turning to flight.
Leave Loki standing alone in the snow.
He turned to run but I shot out his knee
And then dragged him to the gods in chains.
Thor just shrugged, and Mjolnir he swung
And dashed out the deceiver’s brains.
It was the only blow the gods did land,
Most were too stunned to lift an arm.
The Einherjar had slaughtered all before them,
Not a single god had come to harm!
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
You know, I thought changing one’s job would be easy,
To start a new vocation would be breezy.
I got me local newspaper, looking for a job as a sparky, (electrician)
But I said “what the F-ck, these ads were written by a sarky.”
The first job was an “Almond Knocker,”
Now this sounds as sleazy as sniffing used jockstraps in a locker.
Who wants to look for an almond the shape of a woman’s top half of her anatomy,
But, looking at women’s breast to find one that looks like an almond, appeals to me.
The second job was a “Blind Hooker,”
Now what can I say, that’s a woman’s job and boy she’ll have to be a looker.
She would be the cheapest thrill you’d ever have
You can imagine the police chasing her as she is lead by her all eye seeing sat nav.
Nope not for me…
Uuhh! Here’s one for me, “Bosom Presser”
Squeeeezing them breasts from the largest to the lesser.
I gave them a call straight away
Only to find out the job was not really that way
Dam!
The next one was, what the f-ck? a “Dike Stoneman”
Well I don’t think any man can
This must be a woman bouncer for a happy club ( I hope this is more politically
correct than saying “Gay”)
The one you greet say “Hey Bud”
Well later I googled the titles and yes you right, I was wrong,
I suppose me old job will be lifelong
Overworked, under paid
Oversexed under laid
Here are a few more jobs I came across, an “Egg Smeller, Chicken Sexer, Pillow Girl
:-) , Butt maker, , Fire Drier (never heard of wet fire) and for all you animal lovers out
there, Frog Shaker, Monkey Tail Puller and those who don’t change their underwear,
a Skid Marker
On a winter morning,
The village road lay quiet.
Rickshaw puller Tolmu was then fast sleep
On the grass by the roadside
Behind his rickshaw
Drunk from the country liquor vendor.
Some goats grazed nearby.
Cattle grazed on the stubble
In the paddy fields by the roadside,
While others stood lazily,
Enduring the cold.
At about nine,
When the sun shone, dispelling the cold,
People began to take to the roads;
Groups of students were walking to school.
Tolmu was still asleep,
Enjoying the warm sunlight.
Yet not one wondered, what had happened to him,
For they often saw such a sight there.
But his neighbor Fatima laughed quietly
As she passed by in the auto rickshaw,
Seeing him .
After some time, he waked up
And soon remembered :
He was to deliver four bushels of paddy
From the tenant farmer to the landlord
Before the latter went to the office.
But the time was late .
He comes so faithfully when called,
our veterinary doctor friend,
to our dear family of cows;
upon his help, we do depend.
The birthing of our calves amaze
him more than ever, and it seems
so many of us cows need help
when labor turns into extremes.
The labor process on the farm
demands assistance with some births;
with calves too large or feet come first,
we cannot pass those hefty girths.
With doctor's hands or puller tool,
to help ease out the stuck fast calf,
it's hit or miss it's born alive;
the chances surely cut in half.
How sad it is, with long delays,
some little ones will meet their death;
at last, be pulled out on the hay,
but cannot raise a single breath.
But when it works, oh what a site!
Our mama cows, right there to tend
their little ones who know their moms;
on instant bonding we depend.
Throughout it all, we cows are brave
and seem to somehow bear the pain.
Sometimes we moo, but otherwise,
are stoic, calm, endure the strain.
How blessed we are to have a vet
who helps to ease our calving plight.
No matter what, he's always there
at crack of dawn or through the night.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Second Chance 2
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 06/08/2016
~NA~
Contest: Back To The Barnyard
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Judged: 03/20/2016
I have so much control, I don't know what to do
I have so much control, I don't know what to do
If I get any more control, I think I'm through
The power to have control is a terrible thing
You can tear a delicate bird apart at the wings
And what if you happen to choose the wrong song to sing?
You have control over things both big and small
The lives of your children, the pictures on your wall
You can be a poor son to the mother you never call
I didn't know that I had control over this
The shape of my waistline, even the way that I kiss
Back when I had no control, ignorance was bliss
I can see why God is so mad and unsure
I'd be crazy too with all that to endure
For every disease, why I'll bet He's got the cure
I could be a good man, but it's so goddamn hard
Slave over wages and rake all the leaves in the yard
Control all the little habits I need to discard
All you control fiends, listen unto what I say
And be grateful your life is a series of meaningless days:
Ain't nothing sweeter than slipping back into the haze
So I don't believe in chaos or entropy
I think that we orchestrate what we want us to be
The puller of strings knows the curse of the truly free
The puller of strings -- that's the curse of the truly free.
Christmas Celibration : Dear Santa
Tp play Carol in sweet Sonata.
ringing jingle bell :
Reindeer to wag tail.
Music Band coming from Atlanta.
We can remember, just on last year,
your favorite sledge puller reindeer
asked for new collar.
It took one dollar
That will fit on his neck : Am I clear ?
Arranging lunch with sweet - spicy dish,
spaghetti, also fried tuna fish.
Dessert sumptuous.
Nice fruits, delicious.
Dear Santa , with deer you will relish.
designed to impress
most would test
the authentic objective
of the designer
cladding, binnacle, bezel
family oriented
La moite en quantite' o'
en valeur.
Cabine multiplace et couchette.
myth of dual springs and
dual rear shocks
beyond the myth.
A state of the art leaf springed
rig.
researching the need
to create a new class of
commercail vechiles.
getting people interested in
the new way. a semi truck
an electric ev semi
weighing between
6,010 and 10,600
haul that load
.under 20,000 pounds
trailer puller
horsetrailer
dump trailer
gooseneck
and ball hitch
look professional
doing
those chores man.
the Aland Brand
C Class
Aland Rig!
Emotion is the tongue for the truth.
Tasting in awe, this law, its' proof!
It's the controller of the atmosphere.
Mantle, and the scourge of tears.
The string-puller, and the very strings.
Of bondage, and of what sets you free.
It is the aquaduct and the endproduct.
Infusing judgment to instruct, all things.
Ride and destination, wings of exhileration.
For the senses, it's a self-fulfilling dream.
Author of the Muse and Play, a mission call.
Into the fray, speaking parables, variables.
Poetry, as it deems, a veritable Changeling.
Phantom of the Opera, behind the scenes.
Frame of reference, we need, always applies.
Sometimes too much, stark and maligned.
Heralding-trumpet, that abides, tuned, being.
As the Sun in the window of Lifes' dawning.
By destroying Nothingness in its' wake.
Replacing with Joy, and risks we all take.