Long Sakes Poems
Long Sakes Poems. Below are the most popular long Sakes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sakes poems by poem length and keyword.
Fall is upon us, don’t you see, feel it’s warm and cool crisp wind blowing in the trees alive with color, stores are alive with sights and sounds of pre holiday sakes galore…
I see something else, unsheltered families, people, sleeping in boxes, park benches, with nothing but clothes upon their back, Jesus where art thou..it’s mid October, only two months away, yet no cheer do I feel.
Hate all around, nobody wishes to reason with one another, nobody sits down to talk with one another…business before humility.
My heart hurts everywhere I look, Lord give me your eyes so i can see your children who are hurting, give me your arms so I can reach out to them, a child without a toy, a simple stuffed animal sure to bring a smile, a warm cup of coffee, to warm up their insides.
Lord, I ask of nothing for my family, please surround these lost souls, welcome them to your table of plenty, may they be full with your word, help US to open up OUR hearts, for its hard to stumble when your on your knees..
It's not easy being a cat, you know
They say we have nine lives
But truth be told, like you, we have but one
In my personal life, in my odyssey to the road of being loved
I purred many days and nights on doorsteps until I found the warmest hands
Sleeping 'neath the stars many a night, thinking to myself...
"There must be someone out there"
Someone out there who will shelter me, care for me, and love me
Someone out there that is kind and thoughtful
Someone out there, for Christ sakes- that likes cats!
Well, my quest for finding love had finally come
And trust me, it was well worth the wait
When Ms. C brought me in,
I knew that I had finally found the "Purrfect" home
The unconditional love that she gives to me...
Wags my tail in motions that even I didn't know existed
Now, I look at those same stars at night, thinking to myself...
"It's so nice to be a cat"
I don't know if I will ever have nine lives
But one thing for certain is that I lived two
One very scary and lonely life...
And one very loving and beautiful life
All thanks, to Ms. C
And for her wonderful kindness...
To cats, like me
I've seen shows where blinding light and raucous song held sway;
Have beheld brilliant displays of rockets on Independence Day!
But all such cacophonous sounds and lights devised by man,
Will never equate to the majestic shows provided since time began!
Ah, to witness the dawning of a new day, each sunrise so unique,
Tinting the snowy heights, revealing the grandeur of Pikes Peak!
Then, to view glorious sunsets as Old Sol settles in the west;
I like to think He painted them just for me - I am truly blessed!
The ebon sky comes alive at night putting on a brilliant show.
The resplendent moon floods the earth with its mellow glow.
Sparkling stars wink at me, inviting me to make a wish.
Aurora borealis lights the northern sky with each silent swish!
I'm in awe as thunder roars and lightning streaks across the sky.
After the storm, He'll reveal a gorgeous rainbow by and by!
I've heard the soothing hymn of water playing its melodic theme,
As it merrily flows along its way upon the meandering stream!
I've heard the haunting honk of geese on their southward wing,
And the robin's cheery serenade heralding the dawn of spring.
I cringe, having attended rowdy concerts, paying a hefty fee,
When I can watch God's fabulous show - and it's all for free!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 10 in BG's "For Heaven's Sakes" Contest - October 2010
HARK, whilst thee singeth melody,
gauged labyrinths midst harmony,
ransom subconscious, placed thee free,
persuade possessed, heed thy purged glee,
beg reposed heart thy beating plea.
Themes prune labor to a degree,
song finesse thine assent of thee,
music quell sorts of thine decree
tune thy hearts, minds, souls let agree,
sensed voiced symphonic guarantee.
BEHOLD, tis fortes air, breathes content,
weighed thy heartbeats, tempos augment
impressed moods, thy amour be sent
meant lovers twain souls gleam, assent
thy course treats fair, thy issue spent.
Serendipitous time errant,
thine art grand resolve thy arms bent,
caressing untouched hearts invent
distant tests and trials, relent
thine lips, intimate kiss advent.
FORSAKE thine naught our past mistakes,
indulgence sought hearts for our sakes,
soften tones merged spirits partakes,
resumed innate instinct awakes,
forming trust fusion overtakes.
Suffer our ascent, farther takes
gift deeply, frothed measure inflates
ardor ties revive, blissful fates
balanced fragile hearts insulates,
assured embraced love gravitates.
HAIL youthful thoughts in elder heads,
man tests, steads boy within, joy spreads,
astir thee dreamers from their beds,
recite poems of their misreads,
dawn assails starred twilights to shreds.
Unspool thy sunrise; rays shone threads
day, strings purpled veins thy night's steads,
pump life ballads, hymnal bloodsheds
squander blues, swapping sparkled reds,
gloom bides thy shift whilst clung gold treads.
VIEW love gifts thee thy lamps, soft coats
pure sought breeze, mild trace, handful floats,
tis thy time spreads trend, loom moon draws
waft breeding told claims, thy hour thaws,
cares borne thy primes spills yon be culled.
Crowns thy verse brushed lobes set are lulled,
rouge mouths favor Cupid's pierced aim,
Cherubs lyre naught burnt Rome, thou blame
flamed trails, lust swells lovers tender
tinged warmed hearts, goeth thee, their splendor.
Hear the mighty lion roar
From the past and distant shore
Africa long ago lost it’s maim
Humanity has been lost in Africa’s shame
Kill one lion
Hear the western nations roar
Slaughter complete races
You will hear western nations snore
Children starved, women raped
Soldier kings justify their burning hate
We stand by and pay no heed
As millions are slaughtered like African weeds
We have tears for the old lion true
The symbol or pride we ourselves un-deserve
Let us shed our tears for bloated black babies
Whom would gladly smile for a little meat
Perverse is the tear shed over one lion head
Notes: Of course I do not condone in any way the shooting of animals for sport, and endangered species must be preserved not for their sakes but for our sakes, selfish indeed. However it struck me the irony that such a story held the headlines for so long, when genocide becomes but a side note in our daily news.
Oh the things that I could do
The art, I could create
All the dreams that would come true
I could be so very great
The goals, upon my belt
And talents in my possession
The souls, my gifts might help
Completed tasks and lessons
I could be in such good shape
Eat healthy and be fit
Feel proud, for goodness sakes
Finish instead of quit
A soccer mom, I could be
Preparing home cooked meals
Full of sensuality
Giving my husband all the feels
I could wake without prompt
If I just accrued the habit
I would launch my days off
And beat the morning traffic
I could learn what it means to thrive
If I had the motivation
I’d feel happy and alive
I would reach my destination
There could be a scenario
Where my purpose was defined
Despite where this life would go
I’d feel it all the time
If I could get beyond the “could”
Just get passed the thought
Act, where once, plan, stood
Keep my attention from getting caught
We all wake up every morning
To a day like no other before
This world is still an experiment
With lots of mysteries to explore
One that's uppermost on peoples' minds
And a question unanswered so far
Is how they get the caramel inside
A Cadbury's Caramilk bar
Or why kamikaze pilots wear helmets
They're going to wind up in a crash
And how much spit does a person produce
Or how long is a hundred yard dash
Why don't nose hairs have to be trimmed
Is there a name for a male ballerina
Can illiterate people eat alphabet soup
How many octaves in an ocarina
Who was the first person to look at a cow
Started squeezing those dangly things
Then drank the stuff that came pouring out
They must have been real ding-a-lings
Did you ever get up and brush your teeth
And realized you're wiggling your bum
Why toasters toast till it's beyond recognition
Stating your name at AA, that's dumb
Pretty sure corn oil is made from corn
Wonder where baby oil is took
Why is it that something you're looking for
Is always in the last place you look
Well that's it for this mangey old geezer
My brain is beginning to ache
If you know the answer to any of these
Then speak up for goodness sakes
© Jack Ellison 2013
Right, I’ve taken what you said on board, and I spoke to Lynn, and she’s definitely up for it.
Okay love. Up for what, why does she talk to me when I’m watching the football. Who the hell is Lynn. Okay, fumble along and find out what the hell she’s talking about.
I mean, you would never have guessed Alan and Lynn were that way inclined.
Alan and Lynn, that’s the boring bastards who garden all day. He does flowers, she does vegetables. Rebels without a cos. What the hell would we be doing with them.
So we’ve booked the hotel for this Friday.
Christ, she’s booked a garden convention, a weekend away with plant pots. What the hell is wrong with that woman.
Lynn says they do it all time, she says we’ll love it.
That’s great love, can’t wait. Okay, I’ll need to fake a heart attack, the thought of a weekend with Bill and Ben is just too much to take.
I’ve told Lynn you like black underwear and stockings. She says that’s great, she loves dressing up.
Fecksakes, they’re swingers, the boring bastards are swingers. I know I said our love life was boring, but for Christ sakes, not Bill and Ben. How the hell do I get out of this.
Lynn says Alan loves nurses, so I’ve bought a nurse's uniform.
Listen, love, I don’t want Alan to see you in a nurse's uniform. I love you too much to share you with another guy.
You really haven’t got a clue.
What.
What did I say to you earlier?
You said you spoke to Lynn.
No, I didn’t, I said my mum was coming to stay for the week.
We’re definitely not going swinging with Bill and Ben.
Do I look like I do swinging, this is what I keep nagging you about, you don’t listen to a word I say?
Right, I think I’ve learned my lesson, when’s your mum coming.
This Friday.
That’s great, look forward to it. The mother-in-law, or the vegetable woman in stockings. Choices, choices.
Toy and cereal advertisers must be going zany these days, and I do know.
When I was a child there were twenty-two commercials to every thirty-minute TV show.
Watching the TV commercials was the cost of watching TV, right, Jim?
These days no one watches commercials, choosing to fast forward through them.
How does your child know what doll to buy or what to wear on their knees?
How does your son or granddaughter know which blay-blades he or she needs?
There is a commercial deficit in power, and I, for one, am pretty angry about it.
I don’t know which cereal to eat for Pete’s Sakes, so I guess I’ll throw a giant caniption fit.
Seriously, Moms, Dads, boys, girls, and gentlefolks, let’s march on Washington for something worthwhile.
We’ve marched for a lot less. Hey! We want MANDATORY TV commercials, and we want
Them in style!
Pick up that banner, woman.
Follow me!
The Twelve days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas, my true love said to me, I think that’s the police up there. So I drove them up against a pear tree.
On the second day of Christmas, forensics were at my door, haha, I don’t live there any more.
On the third day of Christmas, a nationwide search was out for me, they would never find me, I was hiding up a pear tree.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love called to say, why are there four birds calling you, what the hell is going on.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love texted to say, a reward of five gold rings is on your head.
On the sixth day of Christmas, I was joined by two turtle-doves, not forgetting that bloody partridge, who was really doing my box in.
On the seventh day of Christmas, the turtle-doves thanked me for the meal, with the words, the partridge would have loved this. Didn’t have the heart to tell them.
On the eighth day of Christmas, I laid into six geese with a half brick, now I really was hating birds, would die for a fish.
On the ninth day of Christmas, I caught the turtle-doves playing around with three French hens, a hand grenade put paid to that.
On the tenth day of Christmas I got turned on by eight maids a milking, though this was short-lived when I was attacked by seven swans a swimming.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, feckin drummers turned up, followed by eleven pipers, ten lords trying to leap nine ladies of the night. F*** sakes, man, do these people know who they’re dealing with.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, I awoke from a drunken dream. My god, the wife screamed, somebody’s massacred the partridge, what the hell are we going to do now, there’s only fish left to eat.
Only fish left to eat,
Oh God, thank you for my Christmas treat….