Long Resorting Poems

Long Resorting Poems. Below are the most popular long Resorting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Resorting poems by poem length and keyword.


Suffering and Death

We all destined to suffer pain and death 
and great sadness on earth. 

Pain and suffering are always inevitable.
Men suffer because of sinfulness and carelessness.

Human brain has the highest intelligence 
but their choices and will power cause negligence. 

We all live to suffer, to prevail is finding meaning through suffering and dying.

People need to learn how to settle their arguments without resorting to violence.

Threat of resorting to killing is irresponsible 
and irrelevance.

Men must seek God to amend for their wrongdoing, 
accusing blasphemy is lack of reverence and insulting.

©?aroque


The Bill of Duties, Part I

You have a right to speak your mind freely,
and express what’s important to you,
you have a duty to make your words sincere,
and do what you must to speak the truth.
Also to protect those who would speak out,
even if with them you do not agree,
because if you try to silence them
then you’re a hand-maiden of tyranny.

You have a right to worship what you will,
to believe the dictates of your conscience,
and not to let this be taken by folks
who claim that your morals only offend.
To never spread what you are thinking
by resorting to harsh methods of force,
and to resist those who would do it to you,
live-and-let-live, as a matter of course.

You have a right to assemble, protest,
to demand redress for the powerful,
to remember no right is optional,
but those in government do wish to full,
and that your protest must respect others,
since they also have a claim to this right,
and should the oppression continue on,
you may have a duty to go and fight.

You have a right to keep and bear weapons,
to defend your life with great lethality,
you have a duty to own a weapon,
to understand it’s use in entirety,
to never us it unless there is no choice,
since a weapon only has one purpose,
to know when to use it, and if that time comes
to understand what happens when you miss.

You have a right to possess property,
to control all the fruits of your labor,
and a duty to respect the hard work
shown by the property of your neighbor.
To not let the success others have earned
drive you to a covetous jealousy,
to understand that all civilization
is based on people using their property...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Rhyme

Slowing

1/24/21
"

Following the path or roaming

Near water that was dried up or continually flowing

Around the planet, still combing

Experiments with cloning

People still stoning

And out for a dethroning

Often gloating

And boasting

Others doting

Something worth noting

The universe still going

Time not waiting or slowing

For anyone, you better be knowing

Make the best of it, while growing

Eventually it will be showing

As stars and objects in the sky continue glowing

Knowledge and skills I've been honing

Hearing the phone ring

Doing my own thing

I was staying serious and joking

Far too often drinking and smoking

As the winds continued blowing

We were on the same side or opposing

One was sinking and the other was floating

It was way off target or it was homing

What amazing endeavors

Across the seas, frozen lands, mountains and the blazing desert

To tell the truth, at this time, I can't explain it better

Got to get it done, can't take forever

In order to make it better

Always had to remain clever

Especially  when facing pressure

Amongst the strangest weather

Far too often people gaining pleasure

Even writing out a scathing letter

Out in the open or taking shelter

In order to stay together

I just can't wait forever

It's either far too stormy or the perfect sailing weather

Spending it all or saving cheddar

Always been playing  Chess, never been playing checkers

Resorting to effective measures

In a desperate effort

Meanwhile others were always out creating terror

It was successful or the greatest error
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Promises

In opposition they criticize all that is wrong
and all that is good, according to their agenda.
They put clogs in wheels, aided by defiant unions
and often bringing the country to a standstill
with senseless strikes and organized protests.
Mud is thrown at government and individuals;
much of it sticks; the end justifies the means.
During the run-up to elections they use the media 
to their advantage; the message drummed over
and over during house visits and heated mass rallies 
rousing the rabble with heartfelt oratory.
They promise transparency and accountability;
fair sharing of wealth, help to the homeless and 
to the needy; curbing favours to friends of friends 
by resorting to the ideal concept of meritocracy; 
lowering taxes and bills and introducing new social 
benefits that would put all on an equal footing.
Most of all they harp on the eradication of corruption.
They hold roadmaps to solve all the country’s woes. 
They promise heaven on earth; they promise Utopia.
Glittering manifesto is presented with much fanfare.

The gullible, switchers and uneducated are brainwashed.
As expected, election produces the desired results and 
the party in opposition gets in power...on promises!
Promises that cannot be kept. The devil wants his due. 
He grins, pointing to the small writing on the manifesto...
The majority had failed to notice it. It reads...SUCKERS. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Contest: I Can’t Breathe
Sponsor: Cyndi MacMillan 
Placing: 1st

Woke Up September 6th 2020

Woke up (September 6th, 2020)...

Got outta bed boot
did not drag comb against head
of  beetle browed foo fighter,
he did not arise
bright eyed (by George), nor bushy tailed
to bucket flush toilet.

After attending her asinine
morning toiletries, the missus
lovingly nudged me awake
quickly urging me to betake
sleepyhead husband pronto to bathroom,

(no matter I got bowled over from behind plus
additionally getting flush while hurriedly
caught up with current movement),
nevertheless despite being anointed
de facto proxy plumber,
crowned emergency attendant

incorporating obligatory undertones
yours truly summoned
one man bucket brigade
to block and tackle
messy task at hand,
cuz jack (ass) of all trades
and master of none
immediately got jibberjobber
self into action.

Accessible bathtub and shower linkedin
as washing facilities,
hence after pouring voluminous hot water
into maw majesty,
viz Ms porcelain goddess,
she gurgled and gushed with delight,

thus avoiding the need
to call maintenance man,
whose availability of sundays
(September 6th, 2020
no exception to rule)
more difficult than
finding needle in haystack.

Once morning dirty deed
done dirt cheap duty completely done,
cuz sudden necessity to evacuate arose,
strong bodily need,
to excrete I could not ignore, but only heed
lest aging garden variety
long haired pencil neck geek,
would figuratively experience

a posteriori his bottom dropping out
subsequently with dog speed
donned in Scottish tartan
and Harris tweed
pink frilly ("I hate boys")
nonetheless monogrammed underwear
adorned with precious venerable bead
hmm... methinks hyperbole
token heterosexual doth exceed.

Ass side resorting to poetic dramatization, eh
generic guy relishes word play touché
so please pardon me this literary antic okay
a non believer regarding conformity
also atheist, which confession he will pray
fly high wherein realm harboring soul of
Antoine Marie Jean-Baptiste Roger,
comte de Saint-Exupéry.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Too Many Poppies

Too Many Poppies  

I don’t want a poppy
I don’t want a shield
I don’t want to visit
Rows in Flanders Fields

Another young person 
Yes a young soldier fell
They laid down their life 
What story does it tell

Off to another war
In a far off land
Beaches in Normandy
Blood spilled on the sand

I don’t want a poppy
I don’t want a shield
I don’t want to visit
Rows in Flanders Fields

My heart can’t take it
Fathers, sisters and sons
Why do we choose to sacrifice 
Precious innocent ones

Are guns the answer
Where does it all lead
Poppies upon rows
As young soldiers bleed

I don’t want a Poppy
I don’t want a shield
Fighting old men’s battles
Just leads to Flanders Fields

Soldier’s Response

I’ll do my best to defend 
this land that I love. 
I’ll risk meeting the angels 
in heaven above. 

Raising  our flag of glory 
I will gladly do
Even if they take me down 
I'll hold it brave and true. 

Canada my country 
I'll stand by her and fight. 
I'll take on its enemies 
with all my strength and might. 

No matter where I’m sent
I'll proudly make my stand. 
To protect my home 
Its people and land.

Your picture I hold
Close to my heart
Gives me my strength 
When we are apart

Loved ones left at home
Won’t hear our battle cry
Their prayers are the hope
On which our spirits fly

If we don’t make it
Back to our home
Our sacrifice is our gift
In a field marked by a stone

Response to Soldiers 

To all of our Soldiers 
Who cannot be heard
Your actions and sacrifice 
Are the final word 

We wear our poppies 
Hold our collective breaths
Some questions only answered
By actions and death.

A co-written piece by: Richard Lamoureux and Mark Wayne Shifflet. It was a pleasure to write with Mark. 

We wished to point out the absurdity of men resorting to war while still honouring the men and women who so gallantly put their lives on the line to preserve our freedom.
Form: Quatrain

Vocabulist Nonalcoholic Punchdrunk Stupor January 1st 2020

Vocabulist nonalcoholic punchdrunk stupor January 1st, 2020

Unlike the vast population swath,
with painful hangover
average celebrant merely
doth confusedly blink,
who devoutly pledge
new year resolution
to give up drink
immediately fall off wagon

as he/she eagerly downs
shot after fermented shot
while forearms link
with family, friends,
strangers, et cetera
and immediately rethink
alcoholics anonymous pledge
gamely nod and playful wink.

Yours truly (me) never found
wasted, soused, besotted,
et cetera alone
and/or with round
of best buddies real,
and/or imaginary

nor got stone drunk crowned,
(cuz never did I make
friends - no lie),
plus never felt compunction
to quaff hard inebriant
(think booze hound)
life as extremely gawky introvert

(think long haired
pencil necked geek)
preferred company of books
with cute button nose bound
between pages, this theme
I could expound

till cows come home to roost
after bovines well rested
from their sound
sleep unready and unwilling
to confront battleground
(think slaughterhouse five),

thus beef rendered me, we clowned
and hoofed up memories
promising each other pound
for pound, we would stand our ground
never freeload, mooch, sponge...

nor EVER succumb to the bottle
no matter how hardbound,
especially when attaining rough-age
older not necessarily wiser
if necessary resorting and astound

ding farmer in the dell
to Diet of Worms smellbound
while reenacting Holy
Roman Empire called
back in the hay day -1521
courtesy Emperor Charles V

offering sobering admission
lips ne'er taste amber and/or clear
liquids of the gods, no matter
believe me you reader hopefully
aforesaid confession doth not dumbfound.

Unsung Threnody For a Well Sewn Hero

Bare skull and cross bones
     existence on the peripheral
     outskirts of poker flats
lives a slip of a man,
     whereat he never felt deserving
     accolades linkedin 
     with appeasement,
     sans pat on back congrats,

asper bringing peace,
     and tranquility to the
     kingdom taken over
     by trumpeting democrats,
without any armed 
     populace resorting,
     (nor police present)
     affecting a coup d'etat

     (carried out 
     by military expats),
no...amazingly enough,
     non violent government
     takeover won by votes
     during midterm elections,
     who rendered
     the equivalent outcome

     (actually a stunt 
     more difficult)
     than analogously bringing
     rabbits out of hats,
which predominant number
     of socially progressive winners
     shared the sir name "Katz"
ironic since such 

     ethical congressional
     "Freshman" hoped to scare
     out all the corrupt rats
and, thus hit upon,
     (or one newly elected
     acolyte dreamt) master bait,
which involved one participant
     to experience potentially

     a stormy Dane yell'n date,
thus unnamed 
     wizard (specializing
     in far out, and groovy
     grandiose high jinks fate
hood did don an outfit
     resembling the Great
Tony the Tiger, no matter,

     he reputedly happened
     tubby a serial killer,
yet said Grand 
     Poobah did integrate
each puzzle piece
     of his Khanate
with a combination of
     bluster, gimcrackery
 
     cheap tricks deceit, 
     "FAKE" hate
as to snatch the checkered mate,
(essentially a hie
     bred Matted Scottish
    tartan Harris tweed
     couture rib banned jester,
     who didst orchestrate)

so much tom foolery, his
     basic winning technique
    quite antic quate
head, nonetheless

     far more ingenious than
     latest technological state
of the art revolutionary
     trappings, thus never
     outmoded ways underrate!
Form: Ballad

Thanks 4 Giving Me Reason To Write Mish Mashed Gobbledygook

juiced spare moments, 
and tubby direct, ernest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting 
to caginess, 

but NON GMO, gluten free roaming thoughts to thank
ye (Amelie Beth), and Rich McGeehan 
for welcoming a small group 
of family and friends 
to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode, 
   
somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by, 
when as kids residing in Audubon 
or Collegeville, Pennsylvania, 
we tricked each other with a harmless prank

such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie, 
or scaring the other 
with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times, 

when faith no more 
eroded camaraderie among village people
unity withal fellow Americans did tank
especially as the world wide web 

iz going necessitate thee
to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share 
a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichokes gibberish, 
which when placed 
atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
  
as didst this heart of darkness 
within soul asylum 
of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women 
re: daughters, whose absence 

felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered, 
when goose that laid golden egg stolen
by Jack and beanstalk 
of story book fame as a cash cow means.

Scotus Ruling Overturned Roe Versus Wade

The regressive Supreme Court decision
hustled, proclaimed, and voiced
June 24th, 2022
immediately quashing pro choice option,
struck down constitutional right
(upheld for half a century -
formerly allowing, enabling and providing
the muliebrous population
access to secure and safe abortion)
and sent a chill into the air.

A woman of childbearing age
within the United States trade
risk seeking abortion if she
unwittingly finds herself pregnant
resorting to desperate measures
sans mortality written
courtesy blood and gore costly paid
for ownership of body electric
autonomy usurped to choose abortion,

especially females representing
low income statistic,
whose chaotic, frantic, hectic..., existence
quite unlike bucolic, idyllic, poetic
lifestyle exemplified, exhibited, and exuded
by Thomas Kinkade
impossible (aery) mission 
to buzzfeed another mouth
hence unlucky gal
now faces criminal charges,
whereat strong arm of the law 
one lass unable to evade.

Despite being an older
long haired pencil necked geek male,
(a genetic product
of the baby boomer generation)
albeit one dazed and confused man,
whose body resembles
a miniature lead zeppelin
I a baby boomer guy
always inclined toward
remaining aforementioned gender,

nevertheless can empathise
with red hot poker anger
fecund women most likely experience,
when in the heat of passion
birth control measures vehemently
even non verbally overruled,
when an aggressive partner
thwarts such rational precautions
exerting patriarchal domination
loosing abundant seminal fluid
with deliberate intent to impregnate.

Many instances abound,
(since time immemorial)
whereby linkedin couples
ardently, fervently, maddeningly
strive to beget offspring
and thus shuck off
the application regarding
accessing, kickstarting, wielding
invocation of divine spirit,
thus their sexual relations

forfeit applying prophylactics,
oftimes feeling down and out
when biological fertilization
breeds despair, grief, mourning...
yet no sooner does adoption
appear as the last best hope
the maternal hormonal gonadal
secretion agency, propensity, viscosity....
and quirky unpredictability,
where unsuspecting latent virility
to procreate ironically occurs.

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