Long Rub off Poems
Long Rub off Poems. Below are the most popular long Rub off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rub off poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s pretty obvious that dogs are simple
Yet alert and engaged creatures.
They live in the moment
And are alive to everything that fills their senses.
In this they are like most animals.
What I often wonder is what do they get from us,
Us with our sense of abstract time
And third person perspective?
Does this perspective rub off on them,
Bleed into their minds the way other mental illnesses
Can become contagious?
Since they are such great empaths
Do they get a sense of our otherness
Our uniquely differentness
Which we call consciousness
And value so highly?
Or are they actually not so different than us,
Conscious but not egotistically so
More like dog-like
Simple and honest, enthusiastic and something
We humans seem to find so difficult,
Relaxedly so.
(10/3/26)
Life gives us no clue about our purpose
In its midst, it gives us no answers
Forcing us all to tune our vibe to its focus,
Easily lying to ourselves, as if we were bluffers
Somehow trying to believe in it being our
Master, having us always knelt down
Yearning for some luck at every hour
So that we do rub off our faces, that frown,
That same which is always there, as if tattooed
Ever ready to shed upon us downpours of calamities
Ringing always with the bells of death, so unvalued
In essence yet, bearing with life, so many similarities
Especially there where it pertains to the veil
Shielding from us the ability to understand where we hail!
Written on 26th Dec 2020
White vapors appear as pollution sized continents reside in our open waters.
Men are missing more teeth than technology has to offer.
Beggars are asking for cigarettes and demanding five dollars.
Cars are so many and trashed, and then wasted.
Dry eyes rub off dead skin to become ashes exhausting a terminal dust.
Addiction is drugged cellular phones that obscenities are advertised in the down facing eyes focused on the palm of your hand.
The trend catches up quick as sleep becomes utterly lost in your conception of time.
Coincidences become too many to look the other way.
The parade of paranoia is just a long lost dust in the winds of our lives.
I even have found myself spelling in numbers, only to discover an ancient text depicting the end of mankind.
Described in admirable fashion, the words flew off the screen and premonition landed spot on; striking nerves within me.
As epiphanic realizations connected many dots of my personal life encounters . . .
Later that same day, white vapors once seen spirited, then became tangible as an exhalation of white dust left little doubt in the powerful truth of the contents read in this context.
Practically insane, driven by intentional insomnia, paranoia paralyzed my entire being as prophesy and reality became forever linked—bound by a common thread—collecting the same amount of time and ultimately each plagued, polluted and diminished in white vaporous dust.
3-19-17
I was only a boy when it happened
when they came for me
my family all cried like kittens
I was only a boy when the door opened
they came in like snakes
their coats casting strange shadows
I was only a boy when they fetched me
when my life changed forever
and the colours in my mind turned black
I was only a boy when they struck me
a blow that took away my youth
and my song died in my throat
I was only a boy when I became a man
not knowing the souls I would suck
nor the blood I would drain dry
I was only a boy when I saw them
falling as snow in the east wind
like moths when you rub off their skins
I was only a boy when death came
when I realized the time had come
and I stood there, hollow and empty
I was only a boy when I understood
when the darkness was pierced
And I felt regret beyond my years
I was only a boy when I finally earned my title
When I could no longer distinguish
And I wept
I was a Nazi
The image girl
Rolling into oblivion
Only stopping to say goodbye
Before she dies
Her body sculptured
Marble skin that men admire
Cocooned in beauty and grace
Dressed in sequins and lace
Only her eyes betray
A past that no elegance can hide
The dirt under her nails, hidden
But the reminiscence ingrained
The past and the present
Beat a different heart
One stronger today
One stronger tomorrow
Today, they bask in her glory
Wishing her beauty would rub off
A photograph in her presence
An autograph to cherish
The past was always stronger
Chipping away from within
Taking her back to the dirt
Where conception was forced in blood-soaked fields
The end was always the legend
Portraying a different past from the present
Fairytales always have to end in splendour
Otherwise, the children cry.
(Tongue planted firmly in cheek)
In spite of my loving nature
In spite of being an Olympic skater
In spite of my charming way with the ladies
And my absolute love of wee babies
In spite of having a voice that rocks
And looks so dashing wearing just socks
In spite of my hair that's a silvery white
And a tan that doesn't rub off every night
In spite of a fabulous smile I possess
And stunning good looks, yup you guessed
Though I do admit I've got a naughty side
Some of the above, well I might have lied
Especially about looking good in just socks
People at times, they yell and throw rocks
But that doesn't phase me, I know I'm a charmer
Perhaps I should wear a steel suit of armour
It'a all in fun, I'm not really a looker
Forgot to mention, I'm real good at snooker
© Jack Ellison 2015
There is adventure, just waiting, as I open the door
A tiny bell sings a tinkle, (old lyrics, perhaps)
To a place of discovery... inviting me in...
But offers in fact, enough excitement to thrill me
I often drop by, one chance for a glance
A dingy old store ..., this place I adore..
I scour the junk, the discarded old trunk, a bit of history in disguise
Elbow to elbow, wall to wall...a sea of collectibles to capture my eyes
Upon every visit, a brand new dilemma...how will I decide in the gloom?
How can I use this? Should I buy that? Will I have room?
Nothing like it in the world! Nothing so lovely, oh how I love this little shop!
Will it be cheap?....Something lost in a heap?....It beckons me to stop!
As the lifting down from the dusty shelves, the musty scent of wood
Telling a story...pungent and sweet....restore it?....I could!!
That antique rocker, perhaps it was lonely....so lost and cold
Or those dusty dishes...on the shelf...I rub off the grime..the flowers are gold!
Oh yes...I could give it new life....let it see sun, won't it be fun?!
Buried beneath the rubbish.....where do I begin?
A treasure, I'll think...Soon after the clink that nourishes a till
For mere pennies...I will haul it home...paint, polish or shine...that's the thrill!
How divine! Once it was theirs..., lost in a time zone...now it is mine...
Swift on the track of the years that had left it behind....
Photographed at the bank
Everyone knows you are just
Another Ska-Ank and a loser
Wish you were wanted
But now everyone knows
You are sort of ree-tard-ted
Everyone is better than you,
And you're a loser
Saw you with a drug dealer, too
Were you hoping his money
Might rub off on you
Forget it…
You're a loser
You're just tra-sh
And you’re a loser
You're just tra-sh
And you're a loser
Last time I saw you
When you were down on hope
I saw you on 6th Street
Hustling for a piece of dope
You're just tra-sh
And you’re a loser
You're just tra-sh
And you're a loser
So if we should meet up some time
Don't act like you're a friend of mine
Don’t smile at me, stay away from me
I don't want to be seen with a loser
. for public domain
All Day Tomorrow
( a cast of characters in song )
Homeless Jo and Jane:
We've got all day tomorrow,
to wait by the New Jersey shore,
to beg for a nickel
'cause we're in a pickle.
No end to us being so poor.
Tonight let us rub off our bruises,
tonight let us sing bright and gay.
We filled up our bellies,
the storefront has telly.
Tomorrow may bring a good day.
Parson at the pulpit:
We've got all day tomorrow,
to dry all the tears we will shed.
Our Blessings are fickle.
'cause we're in a pickle.
We can't count the hairs on our head.
Tonight let us kneel with our Savior,
tonight pass on worries what may.
Hand all of our cares
to Jesus upstairs.
Tomorrow may bring a good day.
Children:
We've got all day tomorrow,
for skinning our knees out at play.
We've no butter brickle.
We haven't a nickel.
We're poor as the kids in Bombay.
Tonight all our bellies will grumble,
tonight, while the folks are away,
we'll run through the halls,
and mark up the walls.
Tomorrow may bring a good day.
And so on, and so forth with Parents, Fire Fighters, EMT's, Police Officers, Imam's, Rabbi's, Old West Gunslingers, Suffragettes, Pig Farmers, Bankers, Bad Guys in dark alleys, Peppermint Patty, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Odin, Cats, Screen Guild Members, and the Shadowy Neighbor next door who no one wants to meet.
To many of its citizens it's the American Dream
but having been there done that
it made me want to shout and scream
about Congressmen with vested interest
on the board of a corporation
who swayed by lobbyists pass laws
which ransack the coffers of the nation
as the longer I lived in the U.S.A. the more I did learn
and the less I liked what I saw yes it was cause for concern
yet not to give fair warning I would be remiss
that living in America is like looking into the abyss
where if you outwear your welcome
there nightmares do come true
for stay and stare too long and the void
will gaze back into you
it takes strong character to sidestep
their rudeness violence ignorance
and not be worn away in their likeness
of obnoxious self-righteous arrogance
or once immersed let it rub off on you
take you down hold you under 'til that which you knew
all who you were is torn asunder totally obliterated
to become deaf dumb and blind
equally guilty by association an aberration of mankind
'Love it or leave it' an axiom recited
with no spark of humanity or humility ignited
tho' 'In God we trust' said proud overly loud
is their official motto
'Illegitimi non carborundum' is mine...
spoken voce sotto