Long Recovers Poems
Long Recovers Poems. Below are the most popular long Recovers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Recovers poems by poem length and keyword.
A hundred years have come and gone
to what wonder and tragedies
have you belonged?
My father:
Born in the aftermath of a world at war
danced to the flappings of the twenties roar,
a time when poverty and wealth wore torn in two
when the future feared depression's loom;
just a young man filled with wide-eyed dreams in bloom
where would steps move
in the prophetic ravings?
the Dust Bowl blackened clouds with farmers braving
drowning anthems of a Star-Spangled banner still waving
and the solo flight of history
forever remains a mystery;
political isms rise in freedoms slow demise
while Hollywood reviews the movies
in truth and lies;
the end of an era welcomed in the shanty towns
as Europe recovers with a parade of suicidal clowns;
off to war drafting historic days of infamy
when bloody battles raged
as alliances filled the stage
and at last, a momentary peace was cast;
with love and hope returned again,
life was never quite the same;
distrust, cold war gloom
threatened the next generations bloom
a hated war embraced love freely,
killed in a plaza at Dealy
perhaps too easily, we gave it all away
as nuclear power paved the new day;
the power mongers rose,
wealthy and the greedy exposed
life continued for the bold,
growing rebellious children in the fold
with yet a newer fear to mold,
wars and change in the aftermath
for everyone who has lost their path;
equality returned to the open stage,
the promise of an enlightened age
but time is never stationary
and no one man is a visionary
with walls torn down and freedom's cries
history burns with false truths and lies;
drugs and saturated imaged shadows quickly return
to clouded hazy minds burned
in foggy dreams to be unlearned
and fallen heroes disappear and die
close the century with disappointment
and no magic panacea provided ointment
now at the turn of time
in the final last hurrah
a battle rages yet no one with power speaks
of the lesson taught,
history must once again,
repeat.
Seen it all
my dear father
the foolishness, the truth, and lie,
in which mankind lives and dies
the messages by which the common man exists
is only the futures that we all resist.
A musing recollection on my father's 100 birthday. 8/19/19
When you first get your dog there is a wonderful joy, like he is one
of your own children. You go through a get to know each other period
and a Special bond is developed, with you and him.
You soon grow to love one another. He is part of the family, he is there
to love you when you get home from work, and there to say goodnight
before you go to bed.
There is a bonding and interaction that develops affectionately between
everyone in the family and your beloved dog. He is the king of the house.
My brother Gus, his wife Elena, son Brandon, and daughter Briana can
attest to these words. My brother decided to answer a dog ad for a Pug.
When he got there he realized he had a sister and he decided to bring
her along too. Not wanting to separate a brother and sister.
The boy was named Jeter after the Yankees player and the girl Lucy
after Lucille Ball. This is their story.
Jeter and Lucy were Pugs that were inseparable.
You can say that they were very attached and compatible.
Everywhere Jeter went Lucy followed.
One day they got loose and got in a bit of trouble.
The family spent hours looking for them.
They were found down the street, both with a Cheshire grin.
Both were brought home and no treats for a week.
That didn't last long, they begged and got their treat.
If Lucy got a treat Jeter, would ask, what about me?
They were quite the team, full of drama and comedy.
These two spent many years enjoying each other's company.
Some lovable moments and some very funny.
The joy they brought to the family, will forever live on.
As their beloved Jeter today Sadly moved On.
Lucy was there till Jeter's final Breaths.
She knew because she cried at the time of his death.
She then moved and laid her head on him.
With much love, whispered, "Jeter some day, I will see you Again."
Gus and Elena filmed her farewell.
As their Heartfelt emotions, were saddened and deeply felt.
Tonight will be Lucys first night without Her brother.
We pray that in time Lucy recovers...
Jeter will live on in Our Hearts
and minds. He will never be
forgotten says: Lucy, Gus,
Elena, Brandon and Briana.
Michael Tor
Queen Elizabeth I
A ll things are as it may, beckons a queendom of two faiths,
B orrowed Boleyn's "B" blue brocade the better choice made,
C ancer claims the spring, agrees with the passage of her sister,
D elves to part the heavens anew throne, amidst assassins, lurking
E ffervescent Elizabeth surrenders calmly a surreal destiny,
F orward justice by the will of grace, and a whimsical gestured cloaked puddle
G reat be her ascension not quiet to title claimed by Mary,
H eretics purged sweetly returns, catholicism stands down
I n a realm of stories a chapter freshens a protestant queen
J oyfulness echoes chambered walls, as a parley of power slithers
K ing bequeathed in a woman's dress, as a pence-less nation recovers
L ustrous gems befall righteously, as Spanish gold doubloons are pirated
M en neath ruffles maneuvering positions placates a capricious court
N orfolk his grace whose days are numbered for treason, pride begs none
O nly wisdom and loyalty keep heads secured, within a fickled court
P alace breeds a treacherous bedfellow, proffers an end worse than death
Q ueen banished him to seclusion as a fading insignificant consequence,
R ewards Drake, Raleigh and others from a grateful empire as her saviors
S aves her empire whilst arrogant Philip of Spain loses his in humility,
T enders Raleigh to his Virginia pretense in her name,
U nsettling execution of Mary Queen Of Scots, in harm's way, opens floodgates
V ersed in archery and horseback riding ascertains her birthright,
W ell endowed in the role of the sciences versus human endeavors,
X enial role model for women, mirrors removal tames loose tongues
Y ields to her title as the Virgin Queen, as her treasury is restored by the West
Z eal was her marriage to England, strengthen via the bogs of Ireland
2020 February 07
*1st Place*
ABECEDARIAN CONTEST
~~Caren Krutsinger
*Honorable Mention*
STRAND SELECT G any form,any theme
~~Brian Strand
As I drive by the end of days I see a pumpkin and a happy witch on the doorstep of my joy,
As I pass by my four year old’s awe toward friendly ghosts down the street of nostalgia,
I am reminded of Saints gone home and good souls on their penitent journey,
Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Countee Cullen, Paul Robeson and the poets of my past,
Hendrix, Morrison, Michael, Louis Armstong and the Sounds of my testimony,
Prince and Wynton Marsalis, Miles Davis, Amadeus, Earth, Wind, and Fire,
Saints living, saints dead, souls vibrant, souls sad in the darkness of regret,
We are a glorious symphony on this, this all Hallows Eve,
The eve of that day when I celebrate the muses of my sacrifice and the foundations of my epiphanies,
“Halloween is here” my youngest daughter exclaims and I am reminded of many a night spent scavenging for sweet things and expectant laughter,
Tragic kings like Edgar Allen and Charlie Parker, souls with so much pregnant genius that the world was too much for them,
It is our celebration dear friends that will move the mountains of discontent,
And so in this season of harvest, carpe diem calls me to absorb as much love as I can as the sun sets on purple leaves and gorgeous corn stalks,
And in mother Africa, the ancestors dance like their Celtic sisters who fused the worship of our Lord and the glory of mother Gaia,
And in mother Africa the land recovers from the grief stricken sting of rape,
And in mother Africa my sisters and brothers celebrate the saints gone forward into that great mystery,
Tecumseh and Black Elk I celebrate the brilliance of your aptitude,
And I cry with you in triumph for the resurrection of a people forsaken but not defeated,
Come Glory,
On this All Hallows Eve, I celebrate the beauty of a journey full of confusion and catharsis,
For the reality is that we truly cannot fail,
As our cloud of witnesses sing to me of the victory that awaits,
Tonight, adorned with the fashion of merriment,
And the subtle chill of October wind reds our lips,
Come Glory and Glory be to the faithful departed,
Happy Halloween!
This bowl is no longer mine,
was never so,
Let it go.
well worn before the oath,
A gift that despised the guardian,
Presented freely without a dowry in May.
tainted, and abandoned.
used, and widened by many.
too wide to keep a home.
This bowl is no longer mine,
Let it go,
insatiable, licentious and libidinous.
The bowl was scorned by many.
ere i fell a wandering,
incorrigible, rebellious, untutored.
a bait on my way, the sorrow on my path.
This bowl is no longer mine,
Let it go,
Like many seeking for prey, and so was i for a time.
intent concealed,,
desperate for the gift of the semen.
as adulterer urged rebellion by ignorance.
the rage, the rave of ego and bestiality.
deceived the Law for mere gain.
This bowl is no longer mine,
Let it go,
It is broken cannot be fixed by logic.
this bowl is old, alluring by mascara.
This bowl was used,
i take exception on your list,
This bowl is free available to all.
the next victim can explore.
the bowl is cheap,
forced a dowry to conceal the shame.
This bowl is no longer mine,
Let it go,
T'was sold for free at Ikoyi with ego,
Who is next?
A thousand many had the bowl,
I played along for a time,
ere this voyage of deceit,
I took a flight from restrain ,
hoping to make a jewel from the Flesh.
This bowl is no longer mine,
Let it go,
This bowl is addicted to the red zones,
Incurable addiction i recalled,
The friends,
The internet,
The phone,
The TV,
The cinema,
And tattling,
The routines of unending dark flights
Incorrigible,
Venomous.
You may have the bowl if you would.
think no shame on me, I lusted.
This bowl is No longer mine.
Let it go
Once a street bowl,
and always so.
Find the bowl in your homes,
Let's hope the bowl recovers.
but a broken bowl is irreparable by man
An institution for the average man and also for the Toff
The gun blasts, the gates fly open. They’re off.
Eight magnificent Steeds already to win the race.
Trampling all before them, galloping at full pace.
Jeremiah takes the lead, closely followed by Your Grace.
Simply Simon at his heels, True Tess is gaining a place.
Here comes My Hero, a grand, black stallion gaining on the pack.
Flight Steward, Flame and Conroy are positioned at the back.
Stampeding round the bend, bulleting on the outside
True Tess the small grey filly, taking the lead with pride.
Manes flying in the wind here comes Conroy flying round the pack.
Now in second place, the odds thought him to be a hack.
Clumps of turf take flight from the pounding of the hooves.
Horses surging forward at an almighty pace, none wanting to lose.
Jockeys standing upright, leaning forward smashing their whips.
Jeremiah responds to the whip with an almighty lunge and trips.
The horse recovers, but all others pass him by, at least he wasn’t hurt.
Joyful screams from the punters as each horse puts on a spurt.
Simply Simon trapped against the rails pushes his way between a gap.
Racing with the pack, hurtling against the wind the jockey loses his cap.
Its anyone’s race as the galloping group head into the straight
There’s a oneness between each horse and its Jockey mate.
Wails from the crowd are heard, some had bet just on spec.
The crowd are on their feet as two horses are neck and neck.
The thunder of their hooves sending sparks My hero crosses the line.
A whisker in front of Tess. A photo finish sends tingles down my spine.
My ticket says Tess To Win, the track is silent for results of the race
The Marshall makes the announcement. Its my Hero in 1st place.
Sponsor Brian Strand
Contest Name A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1219 -- 23 May2023
It has been a long time since I have heard your voice
I cannot remember the tone, but I remember how it
made me feel inside
I don't have any recent pictures of you but in my
mind I recognize your smile and I cannot help
but smile myself when I imagine you there
I miss you more than anything else in my life and
I am fearful that I may become one of those people
who never recovers
I see them everywhere now the hollow expressions
the people alone that is so unmistakably sad
I always felt sorry as I passed them never thinking
I would become part of that group
My mind at least takes over where my heart cannot
go. I don't dwell on the bad things shared instead I
choose to remember the good
When it was good it was so very good, even Great
and I use to think to myself, I hope the Gods that
be don't get jealous of us and take it all away
I don't ever remember fighting if any, I just remember
your leaving me behind. I guess things are as they
should be and you have moved on and started your
new life
I have to keep reminding myself that we are not
together any longer. One of the hardest things for
me is not being able to share with you. No more
Sunsets, or walks on the beach, no more tasting
recipes made for two. There are so many no mores
I cannot write them all down
When one is young and starting a new life there
seems to be so much ahead, but when we can count
the years ahead as I do now, precious time is all we
have and what a heartfelt loss this all has been
Everyday for all of my life I will remember you
I will wish you well and send you my love, no matter
how far until I am no longer here or I can no longer
remember.
You were a precious and wonderful moment in my
life. One of which I know will never come again...
A CHRISTMAS AGO
My Christmas present list
Every year
Got longer and longer,
What to buy
Whether far or near
I certainly have always got joy
Out of giving,
Just two months ago, I thought
Things are getting out of hand,
What is Christmas all about,
Faith and family and
Being together,
No matter in Iceland
Or at the equator
Whether you are freezing,
Or in frazzling hot weather,
Most important, is
To be all together!
Used to rush out and shop
Up to Christmas Eve,
Ticking off this one and that,
Is this perhaps true,
Do you see yourself,
Is this a fact?
When as before,
Read, or today 'Googled'
Before World War one
Money was scarce,
Yet Christmas was fun!
Enjoy this wonderful day
For what it is,
Buy Christmas crackers I agree,
Pull them, bang, between
You with glee,
Hear the Christmas carols,
On Christmas morn,
Perhaps make a toy
For your boy,
Dad has tools and imagination
Feel free to craft with
With creative fascination,
And mummy,
Can make her yummy
Christmas cookies and
Perhaps write a poem,
To her little girl
Put a rag doll together,
Out of straw, material
Feather and leather!
Smell the turkey,
And potatoes, roasting,
Hear them sizzling,
Laughter and merriment
For the less fortunate,
Eating a piece of bread
Under a bridge on cement
We should take stock,
Not easy when your
World is a whirlpool,
A rat race,
Begin to face,
Reality and give to the poor,
Next Christmas to enter
This door,
You will do with
More ease
Give to the poor, please!
Save the world from plastics,
And fake gifts,
And Christmas suddenly
Will have meaning,
The world slowly
Recovers and shifts.
their is a train
who shipments rely
who deliverest
for us all
on this train
who supplies
these counterfeiters
double-cross us all
they take from peter
to give to paul
casears men
hide in bushes
to overtake
these wicked souls
the Damsel is distressed
the conducter see's her
he stops the train
to help her out
yet be hold
the white hats stand by
what is this
their being duked by they're own
he crosses-lines
to become the bad-guy
they grab the lute
and then there gone
days and days
the white-hats searchest
they go from town to town
til their wires sent
100 white hats
are ah proaching
the nerves of the blackhats
are made of steel
they hide the loot in the green barn
the equipment they took
is stored their too
the storms a raging
it causes delays
the black-hats
ride thru out the storm
the white-hats stop
to talk to Jesus
they don't know their prayers heard
Superman traveled
thru a time portal
he heard the prayers
and answered for Jesus
he grabs the Loot
and recovers the storage
he save the day
while the white-hats pray!
Copyrighted to the Choir of Space Church..#000 A>D Roma- Lover and PaciCorp. Speak whispers and pray to Jesus. Made the church-folk angry that these secular-sinners drank whiskey and spoke ill of Jesus!" tales sung by the exaggerating Heathen, " a letter to the glassy-eyed Hussy"
Song's of Caesar, the band of Gypyes, and a hickory axle-ed wagon, with two oxen pulling it! From the Theme of Hypacroties, " I am a Hippocrite" written by Duldo Griffie, 2109, on the Quadro Space Vessel , Sigma Rocket IIV!
Who is Bizzarro?" a song by Pinklipp and LadyPhatt- Bottom!
A mere civil clerk, in his fifties; tall and bent,
Leading a calm life, with none any argument;
Albert Camus, in his well-known novel, the Plague,
Makes Joseph Grand, hero; though, visibly, seems vague...!
He could not succeed earning a decent income,
His conflicts with his wife, he could not overcome;
Thought of inconsequential nature filled his head,
Much were his complexes; he could not go-ahead...!
Strange plague breaks out in the tranquil town of Oran.
Brings great glories to degradation thereupon;
Not paying much thought to these, Joseph just exists,
Musing on his writing, un-begun, he turns; twists...!
When floods of plight start flowing above neck-level,
And smells of plague turn into scents of death-devil;
When kith of dead start rushing to register names,
Grand feels the zeitgeist as though moving toward flames...!
Foreseeing, with common sense, events that could dawn,
Joseph involves; and strategically moves on;
He maintains perfect records of the affected,
Service of doctors, hence, proceeds as they expected...!
He falls victim in this process of his service,
He recovers; though bodily weak, not nervous;
It does, no doubt, owe his stupendous faithfulness,
Oran, in its curing process, gains great progress...!
Though, till then, Joseph Grand thought his worth was nothing (?)
He understood, even a cog, means everything;
This thought, though did not create in him egotism,
No doubt, had sown in him, good seeds of altruism...!!!
26 April 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 30 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Enter Contest