Long Shortage Poems
Long Shortage Poems. Below are the most popular long Shortage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shortage poems by poem length and keyword.
I was cleaning my garden bed one day
when a lovely bright green cricket had
a word or two to me, to say.
At first my eyes was full of wonder
how could this cricket be talking to me,
I was lost in ponder.
He looked as though he had been talking
with an also concerned looking, speckled
tree frog.
He looked up at me with his perfect, little
peepers. As if he knew I was the garden's keeper.
Are you talking to me, I asked?
Why yes I am and you have heard me at last.
In his hands so very small, he held a tiny, silver leaf
that was holding a sip of water he had gathered
from the plants that were standing tall.
I must talk with you about our water shortage,
Since the plants have grown so tall, we don't get
any around the garden boarders.
Could you please trim them neat, so that all of us
who live under them can have a sip of rain that is
natures true treat?
I could see this concerned them both for the frog's
eyes showed he agreed with the story, the cricket told.
Well Mr. Cricket lets talk a little bit for I also have a problem
with those pesky little nits. They hinder my flower blooms
and most surely always leave them to their doom.
If you and I can reach an agreement, that you get rid of
them from the top to the cement; I will trim the garden
so lovely and neat and both of us then can enjoy nature's
treats.
We both smiled and became working garden friends and
both of our troubles came to a beautiful end.
I OPENED A DOOR
AND FOUND MYSELF
STANDING ON WHAT SEEMED
LIKE A MILLION ACRES
OF FARM LAND.
THE TEMPERATURE
FELT VERY HOT.
I WOULD SAY
IN THE HIGH EIGHTIES.
AND HUMID, VERY HUMID.
LIKE MID WEST HUMIDITY
IN LATE JULY
OR EARLY AUGUST.
I WAS WAITING
FOR THE CLOUDS TO UNLEASH
THAT MID SUMMER
THUNDER STORM
AND TO MAGICALLY
BRING THE FIELDS TO LIFE.
WHAT REALLY
SEEMED OUT OF PLACE
WAS THIS BEAUTIFUL STRETCH
OF LAND WAS COMPLETELY
BARE OF ALL VEGETATION.
AS FAR AS THE EYE COULD SEE.
IN EVERY DIRECTION.
NO CROPS.
NO GREEN FIELDS.
NO FARMING MACHINERY.
NO WATERING SYSTEM.
NO INDICATION
OF LIFE OF ANY KIND.
I HAD TO ASK MYSELF
THE QUESTION
WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON?
WAS I IN THE FUTURE
OR THE PAST.
THIS COULDN'T POSSIBLY
BE PRESENT DAY.
OR WAS IT?
PRESENT DAY IN THE FUTURE?
I THOUGHT TO MYSELF
WAS THIS LAND NOT NEEDED?
WAS THERE AN ABUNDANCE
OF FOOD SUPPLY?
WAS THIS LAND
DELIBERATELY
UN FARMED
TO CREATE A FOOD SHORTAGE?
WHY WAS I HERE?
WHAT AM I SUPPOSE TO SEE
IF THERE IS NOTHING TO SEE?
AT THE SAME TIME
I SEE LOSS OF LIFE,
EVEN IF, IT'S ONLY CROPS.
IN A WAY I SEE
THE STARVATION
OF FARM LAND.
PREVENTING MOTHER NATURE
FROM PRODUCING
OR REPRODUCING LIFE.
LIFE IS GREAT,
FANTASTIC,
INCREDIBLE
AND AT TIMES
UNBELIEVABLE.
THIS SCENIC VISION IS
UN BELIEVABLE.
SIMPLY.... UNBELIEVABLE.
Michael E.Harris
02172021
Take care with wet wishes --
there is a shortage of road sponges,
then come the splashes
rivers that overflow
can carry away foolish rafters
those who did not heed the sky,
soaked, desperately needing dry
be careful of wet kisses;
the clouds they come out of --
debris they also carry
can sorely tarry
when thought is to settle-down
and lovingly marry --
rain can clean, quench and grow
kisses can comfort head-to-toe,
can drench when overflow
be thoughtful, restraint when making
decisions -- we will all make mistakes
but, long term, no benefits from wet
brakes....
Do not give in
to lethargy
and despair
And do give joy
to recreation
and compassionate repair
Despite stained vulnerable underwear
in need of more transparent air
Do not lose faith
in what
and whom
you can affluently touch natural
yet seldom effluently feel spiritual
Do not lose hope to addiction
to shame
hoarding cash
and shortage self-blame
when you might better cooperate
deeper co-invested co-mediations
hear healing voices
without risking hurtful choices,
smell as present therapeutic being
yet losing passion's taste
over-informed thus divisively deformed
by past re-becoming trauma,
understand integrity's win/win truths
but never know synergy's joyful beauty,
listen for compassion
from Mother's sacred womb
yet seldom solely speak,
much less soulfully sing,
left inside
of right outside
loving souls
of copassion embodied
fertile soil
With regenerative issues
in-between not negative 1's
and positive eco-polycultural 0's
brilliantly full
equals more than not yet empty
Joyfully up
co-invested outside
yang natured
secular polynomials,
and yet also sacred polytheistic,
exegetical nutrition narratives
like Communion
and ThanksGiving Harvest
stories of how we have globally become
unconditional gift compassions
and not so much RightWing
LeftBrain dominant competitions
Regenerating polyvagal neuro-systemic voices
of win/win cooperation
more than win/lose
more than lose/lose
consciousness
of indigenously wise choices
for comprehensively felt
ego/eco-greening co-resilient
co-operative brilliance,
restorative eloquence.
COWBOY 098
He is an attractive young Dad.
He opted to be called,
A Cowboy.
Everyone in his neighbourhood called
him by his pseudonym.
He is a father of one and
a good provider.
He is diligent in labouring to support
The needs of his family.
He is a man who shows high morale
With honour and dignity.
He is optimistic, versatile, multiskilled,
determined, persevering,
and friendly.
He always dreams of having his
Entrepreneurial company.
Despite the difficulties that ensued with
The shortage of supplies affects
His well-being is bad.
Hence, how strong the storm,
And how vicious the wind can be.
He bows his head and prays.
For he knows,
His great faith in Jesus will make
a mysterious way!
Written by: Rosey RMV
06/26/2021
Found a new friend, his name is Jon
Asked him, 'where the heck is your H?'
He tried to recall and seemed to remember
There was a shortage in 1938
Parents failed to put their order in on time
So Jon was basically out of luck
His H has been missing ever since then
Poor guy it really must suck
Imagine all the times people have asked him
Likely driving him out of his beano
Certainly can't be blamed for a tirade or two
Heard he's heavily into the vino
Strange how a small thing like a missing H
Can affect one's psyche to the core
If you happen to have an extra H lying around
He'll pay a big bunch of moolah I'm sure
Found a new friend, his name is Jon...
© Jack Ellison 2012
A golden spoon gilded vase by heirloom.
Acolytes shouldn't be anxious with gloom.
There never seems to be a shortage of cash.
One person's treasure is another's trash.
Gratitude from a large group of people
Gold sludge had fallen from his steeple
Deeply genus to all those who hailed him
Many, yet, quietly loathed his petty whim.
He lost all his money on a gambling spree
Peers faded in the dump; plain you can see
Revered and blessed at a party and dance,
He left this earth friendless and in a trance.
The rich and famous are held in high regard.
Face truth if they no longer have any; it is hard.
Why do poor individuals seem to have no friends?
Consider where man's splendor starts and ends.
Life is a chimera, for it is steadily shifting
Running toward the break line, men drifting
Why do we even strive to live if we must die?
Why are we playing if we later must cry?
Everything fades away, and nothing will last.
All the stars have been stripped of their cast.
Since death is prevailing, it is unwise to be wary.
Just cope with it, either in bliss or by being scary.
Realize the ultimate truth: dying isn't the end.
Once found, each truth is doss to comprehend.
Starting a fresh life, we are struck by the curse.
Love is the ultimate truth at core of the universe.
Truth, as gold, isn't found by increasing its value.
Drain all but gold, and gold will never devalue.
The ultimate truth is to be in a flawless state.
Mature minds agnize genuine truth as fate.
If we can grasp and ponder the ultimate truth,
It's going to purify the mind of grime and sleuths.
Forging sincerity for each other is a key step.
As such, the quest for the final truth is vital and pep.
Cowboys love it when,
There is no barbed wire in site,
And the local Sheriff,
Is conspicuous by his absence.
Cowboys Love it when,
There is a shortage of skilled,
Builders Plumbers and electricians.
Cowboys love it when,
They can mostly check their own work,
And council staff are increasingly too busy,
Or on the take.
Cowboys love it when,
Lawyers are too expensive, for the average citizen,
So most disputes go to small claims courts,
Where Lawyers are not allowed anyway,
At least in NZ
Either way the Cowboys seldom lose any sleep.
Cowboys love it when,
The odds of being held to account,
Are less than than those of winning Lotto,
And they are free to get blotto,
With money from jobs seldom finished.
They shut off our power for about 3 hours
To make needed repairs they say
D'ya know how that affects our daily routine
Like our arm's been cut off half way
No heat, no lights, no computers, no telly
We might as well cash in our chips
Aware it was only from nine until noon
But my mind can't handle this blip
Anything different from my normal routine
Throws me in a kind of a dither
I get all sweaty and my eyes bulge out
My speech starts to slip and slither
I once was able to handle these disruptions
When I was young, handsome and virile
Now that I'm a slobbering vile old man
My mental capacity has fizzled
Some people suffer from a power shortage
Every single day of their lives
Got nothing to do with a disruption of power
Their ageing is in overdrive
Remember that familiar old saying
“Let your wind blow free”
Well I've thought of a much better idea
Beneficial to you and me
The methane gas we produce each day
Could fuel factories for hours
They could install a crepitating room
They'll need a bunch of flowers
You may think I'm obsessed with farts
And other bodily emissions
But the huge benefits could even rival
The power of nuclear fission
No more problem with soiled Jockeys
It would stop the stains in your pants
And possibly be a way to finally alleviate
Those horrible nighttime cramps
The future shortage of fossil fuels
Would no longer worry mankind
All the world's economies would flourish
As this product comes on line!
© Jack Ellison 2013