Long Rids Poems
Long Rids Poems. Below are the most popular long Rids by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rids poems by poem length and keyword.
This time of year is most dear to me
Nature puts on a show for all to see
Sring rids the grey skies and sad looking browns
Blooming buttercup trumpets blaring beautiful sounds
Chilly mornings and warm afternoons
The lovely spring season never comes too soon
Dogwoods are blooming from berries to flowers
Soft, warm breezes and gentle rain showers
Bumblebees buzzing like pollen mailmen
Colors become vibrant all over again
Everywhere you look, new life burst from the ground
Birds begin to sing a magnificent sound
Cardinals and bluebirds come into view
They harmonize a natures chorus just for you
Beautiful flowers everywhere are candy for your eyes
Blue skies and cotton clouds fill the sky
Its the season of freshness energy, and the earth feels clean
The feeling of lying in a hammock with a lite hearted dream
Or walk through an open field and take it all in
Hello favorite season good to see you again
Days become longer, and time passes slow
All nature new colors radiantly glow
Bright mornings and long afternoons
Daylight savings time never comes too soon
Spring is here, and mother nature shows us all
That Spring season is my first choice; my second is fall.
Lpickard
"Man's Forsaken Earth"
~~~from the "Dig My Own Grave Series"~~
["Dig My Own Grave" is a series of writings in reflection of mental preparation...
~~~Each scoop of dirt rids the mess where I'm to be finally laid to rest~~~]
................................{Cry For My Sister}
It's written that the earth was created and given to man to till._
And once man learned right from wrong has been responsible for
man's own will.
Man has changed the plan laid down for him regarding the way to live._
And now man fight and take more than he offers, shares
or gives.
Everything man has ever needed was placed at arms length._
And now man must toil the land but only receive a tenth.
All creatures great and small once roam the earth in solemn peace._
And now blood must flow and homes destroyed before the fighting cease.
Fresh air, green grass, flowing streams, valleys and hills..._
are now used in pursuit to satisfy man's greed, wants and thrills.
This beautiful earth was formed with love and left in man's good hands._
And now it's death, destruction, war, and famine far throughout the lands.
Many have tried to compensate for all the damages done._
But to man's own folly; has given those sins to his son.
If you look around the earth today you'll see it's not the same._
So don't strut with your heads held high while making God the blame.
Nothing is as it once was for what Man's undertaken._
And now this earth's a dismal place and truly man forsaken.
Elemental formulations of healing for the soul
Consequential co-ordinations as we resist growing old
Monumental calculations from a mind in the scientific cold
Fundamental indignation from a heritage that has been cheaply sold
Inspiration from an underground rebellion against corruption
Congregations gathering peacefully while they plan the next outrageous eruption
Elevations of encouragement reserved for the next humble induction
Consternations of conscience as they deliberate the latest disruption
Elated Birthrights of grace that alleviate the suffering of man
Conflated sights of misplaced rights that insight the oppressed to take a stand
Berated knights of armies that fight for the underprivileged lands
Outdated insights from the furtherest from right that cannot reach out to take their neighbours hand
Sorrow amidst the grieving leaves of the oldest oak lined tree
Tomorrow rids the meaning of the boldest manoeuvre to be free
Borrow a reference from those streaming the coldest point of view even though they cannot see
Chateaux of Buddhist Mist resists those seeming as though they understand what it means to just “be”
Retrospective Franz Kafka, Kubrick and Van Gogh are turning in their respective artistic graves
Genuflective baroque bursts out in the streets and illuminates the belligerent and brave
My perspective resists the twists in the narrative that perpetuate the misrepresentation of knowledge in this dying age
Defective subjectives invoke word detectives as contradictions alleviate words from a sage
Retreating from gender and bigotry , racism, discrimination and persecution
Completing a consulate meeting while avoiding contamination of your verbal elocution
Deleting the render of fascism, recrimination and avoiding electrocution
Competing the bender of catachlysm while intimidation forces an absolution
Give peace a chance while you look at him askance and allow a new world to now form
Live through this strange dance while the privilege prance and the poor remain utterly forlorn
Forgive the wanton violent stance of those who are existing war torn
Outlive the demise of the good in disguise as a baby cries after being born
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Across the pastures, lush and green,
Fine horses dance and prance proudly
Inspirational reflections set the scene
As the sound of hooves stir about loudly
A backdrop of heavenly azure bleeds
With whispers of snowy clouds floating
On the edge of prayers meeting needs
Revelations from verses that need quoting
Sunflowers abundant across the prairies
Brilliant colors creating soft feelings within
Where God comforts and rids of all worries
Breathing virtue that yearns for love to begin
Robins glide through the heavens above
Triggering views that sing with adoration
Enlightening the heart like a peace dove
Who shares her joy throughout the duration
Winds sing tunes on the notes of the breeze
Melancholy songs that design secret melodies
Seasons fire the heart with everything to please
Rare luxuries that are filled with sighs of specialties
Along the ridges grow dreams that glow fiercely
Capturing the soul’s longing for a sense of peace
Murmuring truths that haunt hearts so sincerely
With dancing thoughts on love that bring release
Gentle hope inspires insights into life’s poetry
Verses trapped inside the heart like a touch
Bringing joy that is not fleeting, but like creativity
Caresses the very soul earnestly, adoring such
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE any form any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
September 1, 2020
Who'll notice a candle smolder
Who'll be with me if I grow older
Who'll stay with me under moonlit snow
Who'll watch me if I grow old
Under the stars and the moonlit sky
You're not here and I question why
Was it my fault or was it nigh
Was it the end or would I fight
Scars and bruising beyond return
I'm left yearning for your return
Arms out and voice unheard
I miss your voice though very stern
Life without you feels amiss
like every touch missed a kiss
Your hazel eyes left me shattered
Without you, nothing really matters
Days fly past me without a trace
Missing the time where you made me race
Now you vanished
Without a trace
Why won't I let go
You left and buried me under snow
But still I can't undergo
Changes that I just can't accept
Losing you but yet
Love dies
Time flies
Cutting ties
It's my demise
I lost sleep to your ghost
Your voice still haunts me the most
I can't get rid of the yearn
Most waiting for your return
Why can't I let go
Well I just loved you most
Some say time rids you of ache
Well time leaves me to contemplate
I thought death would end the pain
But I left them in the rain
With feelings uncontained
I won't leave for a little while
Not until I see her smile
One more time for the ghost
Another yearns for her the most
I recede back where I belong
Echoing voice of who went wrong
Not knowing where it belongs
Now he's the ghost
But yet nobody needs him most
He's a flickering candle about to burn out
But he's missing a piece he can't live without
A Man and His Word
It's very true, I said it of course,
and I suffer a hint of remorse,
as now, without question,
I have indigestion.
Why did I say, "I could eat a horse"?
Riddle
Who lives in water, not in air,
and never worries about his hair,
yet is not seen in calm repose,
and will not ever sleep or doze -
because, and while it is not fair,
he can't close his eyes, only stare?
Let's give a rousing shout
for our little friend, the trout!
Here's to Frogs and Fish
I like to give a shout,
for the frog, the toad, the trout,
who, whenever one comes by,
rids the world of another fly.
~~["Dig My Own Grave" is a series of writings in reflection of mental preparation...
~~~Each scoop of dirt rids the mess where I'm to be finally laid to rest~~~]
Cleanliness is next to "Godliness"_ or so I have heard.
Sounds good to me_ no debate, or need for another word.
I'm pulling the skeletons out from under my bed...
shining light on old phobias way back in my head.
Crushing picked bones I've had to bear....
dust to dust_ sweep em out into the air.
Brought a good shovel cuz I'm diggin my own grave.
Getting my mind right to become well behaved.
So if you want it done right_ ya gotta do it yourself...
put sleeves up, pedal to the metal, and pride_ top shelf.
Don't know your thoughts about it or your true belief...
to know it was done by my hand is the highest relief.
Every day that we live, we become closer to death...
Each thought and action may be our last breath.
As long as we live we must stumble, toil and slave....
The best thing I'll be doing is digging my own grave.
Ailments? Purim Cures 'Em!
Down 'N the Dumps?
Simcha smoothes most lumps,
What's Simcha? Briefly, Shared Joy,
As more 'tis shared, less there is to annoy!
Trade a warm feeling, return a smile,
Rids everyone of at least some bile.
Together, we overcome trouble,
Synergy! Life expanded, unconfined by the bubble!
Purim practices include:
Mishloach Manos; Friendly giving gifts of food,
Booing Haman; Rejoicing in justice coming to a bad dude,
Related in reading aloud the Megillah, a group "Thrillah",
Purim Seuda; a common meal festively "Imbues Yah",
Matanos Leveyonim; gifts to the needy do truly cure,
Giving does more to the giver as to the poor!
Adar, name of the month, a "Roller Coaster" journey,
When Spring, time of green health inspires, "Arise from your gurney! "
Assuming Disguises; In Adar, nothing is what it seems,
7th Adar, Moses born & died, joy & grief in reams,
Even in Persia, Esther becomes Queen, a saving surprise,
Ailments? In Purim lies a cure! Mirth & birth reprise!
Oh ye generation that squanders privilege before playing your role
Less man earning and more flaunting what they stole
Less girls winding up school and more winding down poles
Iniquity and offense is flooding your bowl
Consciences too weak to beckon to your souls
It is you who necessitate curtailed freedom and heightened control
Daily surveillance and night patrol
In your eyes the future is always bleak
Against what tomorrow holds your will is weak
And you scamper for all vices to make you rich quick
With justifications as balms to sooth guilt's prick
It's only the evil done against you that makes you sick
But that which you do is your artistry of a maverick
Will you in time claim that you were only young and stupid
Words will be your clamour to make your arguments valid
Shots overly fired and hardly any arrow from cupid
Watered down worth and down to be auctioned for bids
Going once, going twice, going thrice and the minute rids
For the broad way you like is less walk and more skid
May God place above your shoulders a good head
And purge the number of the living whose conscience is dead
Searchers of ease and convenience who give themselves as bread
Flee ye from spending on lust and buy wisdom instead
You don't know it but you bleed for what Christ bled
And He is able to reach you though in sheol you make your bed
K. Muitherero.
RIDS OF RIDIC RIDDLES
Delusional convo with the inanimates;
February bragged none of us is his mate
¹and asked, "What month of the year has 28 days?"
-"All of them." I replied with a smirk on my face.
Walls 'ave ears wit' handwriting on the wall,
reading aloud what I heard and saw
as I walk into a room that contains a kerosene lamp,
a match, a candle, & a fireplace lookin' like a trap.
²"What would you light first?" The walls inquire.
-"The match." I answered, though I kinda sound *****.
Ok, omelette challenges me to kitchen quest:
³"Before it can be used, what has to be broken first?"
-"An egg." I countered with a sharp burst.
Night & heavy darkness walked in black mold.
4Then says, "I'm tall when I'm young, & short when old.
What am I?" This riddle emits my puff & my sigh.
-"A candle." I mumbled as one spillin' a cracked lie.
5"The more of this there is, the less you can see.
What is it?" Night asked but my mind is lost at sea.
-"Darkness." I replied with a tone of guessing.
My correct responses sounds like music to my ears,
it's like lullaby that snoozes my clockin' eyes.
6Then it sings: "What has many keys yet opens no locks?"
-"A piano, a piano, a piano." I chorused in my tenor voice.
Then I stare at my reflection, my stain & my sin,
reminiscing how I've toyed wit' what's obscene.
7So I heard, "What's always in front of you but can't be seen?
-"The future." My heart speaks as I skipped a scene
'cos that response isn't scripted nor intended to gracen...
Now, it's your turn to crack this riddle:
8A man looks at a photograph of another man (you).
He says, "Brothers and sisters have I none.
But this man's father (your father) is my father's son."
Now answer this riddle which is complex enough:
Who is the man in the photograph?
-•,uos hw,
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©? 20th August 2023.