Long Rank Poems
Long Rank Poems. Below are the most popular long Rank by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rank poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m proud to serve, that’s true as hell,
But sometimes I wonder why we’re here to rebel—
Not against the mission, not against the fight,
But the brass and the game that fogs up the right.
They say it’s a brotherhood, shoulder to shoulder,
But I see ‘em slicked up, gettin' rank over the bolder.
The ones who dodge grime, fresh-pressed and clean,
In their service dress blues, their polished-up sheen.
Some troops in coveralls, sweat-stained and tired,
Running two shifts while the "heroes" retired,
To volunteer for cake duty, handin' out smiles,
While we’re on the line, racking up miles.
The shop’s down to bone, mission load is high,
And we’re the ones grindin’ while the brown-nosers fly.
They get the medals and accolades—so absurd,
For fixing their collars and kissing up to the third.
I don’t care for the politics, the backroom cheers,
I don’t work for the lapel pins or selective ears.
But there’s pride in the dirt, in the scuffed-up boots,
Where real service lives, where honor takes roots.
I’ll keep pulling weight, watch their parades pass,
Nods and awards for a well-polished brass.
And yeah, it gets old, watching them rise,
When the dirty and smelly, they pass right by.
But proud to serve—I don’t need their praise,
For a job well done, for these long hard days.
Just wonderin’ sometimes why it’s this way—
When the heart of the mission is the boots in the fray.
A Good Boy
My son did not kill anyone.
He did not rob a store.
He did not beat anyone up.
Do you hear me?
Do you see, my face?
Am I lying to you...
or to me?
Broken homes,
missing fathers,
overworked, underpaid,
desperate mothers.
A system that breeds contempt
of our fellow man.
It is a poison, on the land.
How can all be made to see
the division between us,
is a wall built by the darkness
of our every fear.
It is used against us,
to beat us, into submission,
by rank and tally
in the line.
Our skin...
only a covering.
Our hearts...
are all the same,
This world is just a game.
Reality is forever,
and it's just a breath away,
we will need to be ready...
as we can not stay.
You should fear the fourth of November.
Because your old butt is sitting on a powder keg.
After a summer of disease and restriction.
After a summer boiling over with George.
The young are holding the matches.
and day
upon
day
upon
day
The media spits gasoline into their pimply, black-veiled faces.
The "black veils" have no immunity to losing.
They've been weaned on participation trophies.
For bringing up the rear.
They were raised by the over-tolerant villagers.
The villagers are functional idiots.
Never spanked, now they've broken rank
with civility.
Carrying left-handed commie socialist shanks.
Encouraged by professors of anarchy,
You should fear the fourth,
Because your old butt is sitting on a powder keg,
If the orange messiah wins, the brats will be pitching matches and gasoline.
Like we used to pitch horseshoes and pennies.
these days as always
people speak of how they feel
sharing here and there—
ideas about themselves
woven in common voices
what people can do,
and the things they leave undone
all become mirrors—
reflecting on inner tides
currents of thought and feeling
emotions erupt
needs and fears behind the words
compelling actions
with desires in secret codes
hunger giving language breath
some fix attention
from well focused eyes—
when there's much at stake
other times they slip away
discarded when no harm done
we rank, we measure
the weight of each act or thought
probing its value
bestowing significance
to tear away tainted lies
at the root of all
needs, desires, and fears abide—
human hearts exposed
deep emotions pour outward
as feelings from the marrow
Birdwatching from a hide
Two old gents sit side by side
As the rain settles in
Sid reaches for his tin
"Cheese sandwich Frank?"
"Errrr, no thanks, they look a bit rank"
"It's only cheese and bread you know?"
"Yes, but how old Sid, HOW old?"
"I found them in my shed, been there a while since they were made"
"Look....a Water rail Sid"
Binoculars then accidentally fall and hit the floor
They can't be used anymore
The shy bird is spooked
The bang made it think someone could shoot
In the confusion of it all
The sandwich tin takes a fall!
Sid looks out of the hide, the bird has gone and so's his pride!
Sid then looks at his friend Frank
Quiet and still his returning glance
A Robin then lands in front of the hide
It looks at both men sat in the hide
It seems to realise from their look
That there's no story in their book!
They both then watch the bird fly away
Sit in silence for the rest of the day
A quiet stillness settles in
As two gormless men sit with an empty tin.
I am Charlie
Je suis Charlie
I laugh at myself
I laugh at the world
I mock you with love
I love to contemplate
I love for humanity to think
There are no limits to freedom of expression
As long as we have no hate in the heart
Let us mock the universe
In gaiety and laughter
If we learn not to take ourselves too serious
Maybe just maybe
We shall feed a few poor
Maybe an act of kindness
Maybe we shall forgive and open our hearts
Maybe one shall rejoice and clap at a daily good deed given
Maybe our kindness will rank higher than our ideals
Maybe, just maybe, a cartoon can be just that
A Cartoon
We all have different views
Different tastes
Our diversity is our beauty
We can each enjoy that which we see as art
We can each ignore, that which pleases not the eye
Free choice is golden
Cold blooded killers
Have no place in our civilization
Whoever kills in the name of the most merciful
Is a fool and an infidel
If Allah was an artist
The infidels would be caricatures on a sketch pad
To be erased from all of humanity
Yes, I am Charlie
God Bless America
We have a little confusion in the good old U.S. of A.
A certain group of people, think this country is in decay.
Without the mighty Trump we’ll never make it through.
They no longer have any pride for the Red White and Blue.
They think that we are broken and their ego’s a little bruised.
I’ll try to clear this up, for those that are confused.
Our freedom is still intact, we all still have our guns.
We’re still the toughest in the world, we are our father’s sons.
We the people are in charge; this will never change.
We’re always locked and loaded and never out of range.
This land will never falter, we are one nation under God.
We will always be protected, by his staff and by his rod.
Never judge the people by the actions of a few.
The Eagle still flies, even when its black and blue.
Our bruises will fade away, we’ll never lose our rank.
God still blesses America; you can take that to the bank!
I brought the wise men to mine eyes to read that I may see
Beliefs and fears and outright lies of life's great mystery
In learning years I held my say to await the savant's call
To clear my mind and find the way, the truth that answers all
I looked and longed that I may find the path that sets one free
Yet still was chained for faith so blind could shed no light for me
Deliverance was not my gain if there is such a thing
But pious paragons I disdain who preach then loose their sting
And as I rest, my days but gone, and think what life's about
I wonder at these souls who shone and prayed through devilled doubt.
Heavens and hells, chimes and bells of high theocracy
Don't ring for me for all I see is rank hypocrisy.
Don't ring for me for all I see is rank hypocrisy.
You say I’ll never brake you, I don’t intend too, these your mistakes back for take two, now rank forsakes you, you thick plank I hate you,
a war you forced changes course while you stay with no remorse stripped of resources no reliant source to call on when fallen no authority to report on no longer important or potent just undefended and open fully exposed at the forefront, oh no, you can’t fail and fail again like last time when it was your pastime because it lasted time, pastime what a sad life, a mangled mind trying all angles but denied fully committed mind applied, failure, denied, failure but failure don’t faze you it’s just your nature why did you have to make me hate ya!
LIBRAS ~ Two of a kind
by;Frank
Enigmatic SOUPER STAR--Only you know who you are.
Since we first met you've come so far.
Diamond Darling of the SITE--Soul on Fire--Never TRITE.
Your varied edges cast Blue light.
Our BIRTHDAYS are the same--
You share my Pretty Sister's Name.
A tease of Fate?...perhaps--She loves to play her games.
Friends here easily let me go--But with you I always know--
We'll always call each other friend.
Unwavering friendly Soul Mates to the end.
by;p.d.
You are Secretive like the color Blue;
My mind wonders when it comes to you.
Shadows that happen fast,
and still your KNOCKING~@$$
Yes, a HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me and you.
We are what I call... "MAGIC OCTOBER BLUE!"
What a treat my son * my brother, RANK with the same name Frank.
We work hard Pleasing ~ Captivating and Robbing the same bank.
You hide it well & keep smiling through all the pain,
Not letting no one near the rain.
A thousand falls, a thousand calls,
Than he or she' wonders, why your back is against the wall!
Trust will only come, through the same disguise.
You are a True Friend,- Who's more than meets the eye!
* A COLLABORATION with FRANK HERRERA *