Long Put upon Poems
Long Put upon Poems. Below are the most popular long Put upon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Put upon poems by poem length and keyword.
Kavanaugh
By Franklin Price
9/26/2018
Kavanaugh was nominated for this country's highest court.
His reputation was impeccable the application did report.
Tomorrow's hearing is a test for one who put him in this race
If POTUS Trump would have him, he should not be in place
The liberal opposition said that's really quite enough.
He may make it to that empty seat but we'll make it really tough.
The women's me too movement will find a girl he tried to maul
Even if it was in high school or maybe even not at all
We'll prep her and we'll prompt her 'til her memory is right,
About some drunken party, on some non-remembered night
Will be such an easy thing to do, after all he is a man.
He is guilty by his gender. We should oust him, if we can
He must prove that he is innocent for he is guilty 'til that day,
Even though our jurisprudence states it is the other way.
If this one woman's not enough, we'll put another one in place
The setting, in Yale University, puts further egg upon his face
They don't care the degradation that they've put upon this man
They're delaying to the midterms in any way they can.
They know that if they add some seats, they get majority.
Then maybe find another who matches more politically.
No matter if this works or not, there are two more years to go.
The president still appoints the court and the judges that we know.
If tomorrow's hearings go the way, the liberals would choose,
Maybe Trump should choose a woman, another man would surely lose.
Coffee goes on before one word is said
Hopefully way after dawn.
I am not a morning person so don't go where
Kings won't tread
Or you'll learn what it means when the Queen of
Hearts says off with your head.
This is my quiet time. Be gone!
Coffee goes on before one word is said.
Spread
The news Jemi John
I am not a morning person so don't go where
Kings won't tread.
There really is nothing to dread
Just hang on.
Coffee goes on before one word is said.
My mind is dead.
It needs coffee so I can understand all this
Jargon.
I am not a morning person so don't go where
Kings won't tread
Instead
Let me wake up with out being put upon.
Coffee goes on before one word is said.
I am not a morning person so don't go where
Kings won't tread.
Thank you for dying for us
Thank you for saving us sinners
Thank you for suffering
Thank you for taking our place
Thank you for the nail-scarred hands
Thank you for enduring the wounds that were put upon You
Thank you for the stripes that heal our sickness and disease
Thank you for following your Father’s will
And laid down yours
Thank you for the Eternal Life that you gave
Thank you for your Blood that shields us from the evil one
Thank you Lord, so many thanks
We can’t ever thank You enough
Father – We appreciate you Lord
For all you’ve done
For all you’ve been through
Thank you Lord, our Father
Our Unjustifiable, Implausible, Inconceivable, Insupposable One
From all the world.' All living humans,
who are not for death..Who value all children.' So many lives yoo will not kill, all
Through planned gen-ocide we'll be our own heros..We' read the lies, and see the
Tropes, on fase information, and tv soaps
Where death is sold.' Indeed its thrown about ' it looks so trashy; WE CAN
REJECT ITS SHOUT.! So all the world can you hear me ? Do you also; evenly agree.?
We can push back.' Against all war lobbys.' A fear agenda that no'one ever
Needs.a world of freedom, where no inventor fears' to bring forth good, will be
As music to all ears, look we've been done wrong. Lived through the con-vid scam, lost familiy and friends.' And know
We were put upon.' Yet the world can stand.' we were never on our knees, to satans minions and their pruoritys we question all, all: acts that would enslave
Such as ( family planning.' ) it was never a
Choice all made.' Another tax yet one on future lives ' its time to act, to take a real hard look, as revelations unfold to mirror the One and Only Book, it up to you the world thats calling out, get a grip now and
Throw the rubbish out.' Turn to lufe and liberty and love release the power He gives from up above.'
momma mia man date
comb the second Sunday during month of May
can be traced back to ancient Greeks and Romans
festivals held
to honor mother goddesses Rhea and Cybele
setting precedent for Mother's Day
where early Christians fancied festival
known as “Mothering Sunday.”
Fast forward to the early
twentieth century 1908 when
Ann Maria Reeves Jarvis (a social activist then,
and community organizer
during American Civil War) era to quieten
grief fraught era also cited
as informally memorializing her mother,
who begot said noble men
touring daughter
paying homage to woebegone
lachrymose role with accolades
to endure tragedy and loss put upon
child bearing women,
this event held (rain or sun)
at St Andrew's Methodist Church
in Grafton, West Virginia, which did quicken
in subsequent decades to formal fete,
where poets (like me) did open
the special occasion with ranked midshipmen
commercialization cropped as ken
be expected by the early 1920's imbolden
greeting card companies such as Hallmark gen
er rated a market (money making of course) even
though Jarvis believed companies sought profit
NOT prophet, thus misinterpreting
and exploiting idea of Mother's Day and met
aforementioned founder, who tried to jet
tis sin the vulgar appetite of the ole mighty dollar,
but her lofty ambition did get
thwarted by mass marketing
the quaint idea,
plus she feared going in debt
and though the industry
(initially proposed entailed low key
acknowledgement, the originator
(Ann Marie Jarvis) still esteemed re
formed unsanitary living conditions with zee
less ness and aplomb
set a course where greater longevity doth hum
all because, she sought to regale "mum."
Your Brother
You didn’t take the food and leave it for your brother
Instead you gave it to a stranger and rushed home to your mother
She was sitting at the table with hot food for you to eat
She looked into your lying eyes “Did you find him on the street?”
You didn’t want to hurt her, couldn’t bear to see her cry
So you mumbled “Yeah I did” but didn’t look her in the eye
You wondered if he was okay and hoped she wouldn’t ask
You knew that in the next few days you’d have another task
“Take him this warm jacket” or “give him homemade bread”
“Take him granny’s blankets to put upon his bed.”
You’d just add them to the items built up in your backseat
She never understand he didn’t care to eat
She wouldn’t comprehend that he didn’t have a bed
or that he didn’t want a hat to cover up his head
Her generation differed, she lived through the Great Depression
She wouldn’t believe her son could create his own oppression
You had no sympathy for him he created this affliction
How could it be so hard to get sober from addiction?
You thought that he could stop and come home any time he wanted
You didn’t listen when he said “it’s like being haunted”
you smirked the day he told you “I’ve seen the depths of hell”
and you blocked your number when he called you on your cell
He needed you to have faith in him but you weren’t able
He found Faith in the Lord and Without YOU he got Stable
by Evelyn C. Swartz
01/04/2020
Forgive me if I asked to much ?
When all I sought was light relief
To help me with my Troubles
Not some minor grumbles
Because I am sick of being perennially told
At least I am not as bad off
As some or other poor unlucky soul
Whose has also had there life stolen from them
When I am down selfish though it may be
That is seldom comfort or brings no joy to me
I hardly imagine they give a damn about me
They have there own set of demons to deal with
And they won't stop me falling off a Cliff
Into the Abyss below my life has carved so hollow
My cries no longer Echo
So tell me please what am i to do ?
Because I have long since run out of my own ideas
I am as I Appear
A broken shell
Looking for a way out of this Hell
And all I am asking for God please is ?
Just some temporary light relief
Instead of constant bad luck
And i am not even asking for good luck
I would gladly settle for no luck at all
Truth be told
Anything is beter, than being put upon
When all my life seems to have become
Is the but of some sick joke
Into which voodoo pins to stick
Somewhere the snooty scholars of the world
quietly locked inside their dusty hall
Under the dim light of a candle’s flame
decide which label to put upon us all
I see them now with my book in their hand
yelling to destroy this before it grows
Crying to the world “stop this idiot”
he who disregards every rule of prose
Running around their dusty libraries
Banging their cymbals of fear and alarm
stowing me away on some hidden shelf
before I can do anyone some harm
To all those so-called experts of the world
who will stand upon their soapbox and cry
That I am a con for not following their rules
I tell you that I do apologize
Perhaps it’s true, I am a foolish man
to think this qualifies as poetry
I do not know your rules of form and rhyme
to write the way you tell me it should be
If you’re the kind that cares about such things
you might be right to call this a farce
because I don’t use proper form and rhyme
but to you I say “kiss my ****”
Maybe when it comes time to place this book
back upon those dusty forgotten shelves
Someone who reads these words will find courage
to be the poet that thinks for themselves
The trees, the holly
the pine scent and folly?
What’s this season all about? Is it joy?
the sales, gifts or newest toy?
What is this anger all about?
causing folks to curse, stress, shout
When one excludes the name of names,
you say their different causing shame?
What is our culture all about,
religious people scream, shout?
Sane people all are going mad,
this event should make us glad!
When did our fellow man decide
other people should go, run, hide?
We have forgot, left meaning there
we threaten, fight, hate, don’t share!
How is it we have come
so far from the little drummers drum?
To offer peace on earth, good will
t’ward men, we fight, scold, and kill!
How did we get so far away
from where that precious baby lay?
Where the magi once brought their gifts
from the point where angelic voices lifts?
From lowly sheperds humble pleas
to see the king of kings once please
To give them hope and lo once more
tell all people shore to shore!
We now have hope, love, grace,
among us in a dark and lonely place!
Love came upon the earth that day
sad it now seems so very far away
But we can reclaim, get it back!
Our Lord was put upon that rack
to save us from ourselves you see
to walk the shores of Galilee
He knew someday we would try to kill
the loving-kindness only he instills
he walked intently up the hill
to show his love for us is still.
In a dark and lonely place
He gave to us his saving grace!
So when we tread shopping malls,
we get mad at traffic stalls
Remember why we All are here
'twas him who gave us lasting cheer
Don’t try to force his love you see
He shares that gift with you and me
Think about the manger and the hay
think about this holy day
and why he was born in Bethlehem
and why he is coming back again!
Dreaming of pink flamingos, their beauty,
their bite…dreaming of flamboyant flamingos,
so close to shore; I’m in the ebb and flow.
Where has my protector gone as I regard
the flock; awash with blue sea foam.
Dreaming of their carrot necks; nibbling
the serenity of their stretch; dare I touch
the earth or sky, the sandy beach, question why.
Where has my protector gone as my eyes stray;
why am I pulled by the surf; do I dare mingle?
A sudden shock of night in the brightness of bed.
a solitary digit in the bird’s beak. confident that
my husband will save the day, but it’s not day.
The pressure put upon; I can still feel the squeeze
as I awake in the third strange room of the week.
My protector lies near me, oblivious of my plight.