Long Shortages Poems
Long Shortages Poems. Below are the most popular long Shortages by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shortages poems by poem length and keyword.
I am outside the circle of sex. Just as well. Population control,
the biome's survival instinct. Or I'm old. Look
in mirror, skin over bones. Young girls
on bicycles, running, have that granddaughterly smile for me,
all is safe, well. Much is well.
The neighborhood safe,
the nation a non-violent helpmate among nations. Until
food shortages, weather crises, nuclear mischief apply.
Police patrols. I was proud of Massachusetts
voting to decriminalize reefer. Let's go all the way:
free all non-violent offenders from their cells! Force police
out of cruisers to walk the streets and say hello.
What else can we try:
Open the border with Mexico. Let labor
flow like capital.
What has this to do with the self,
the temperamental, fragile self. The one that leaves no footprint
in eternity. No smell.
Future Prospects
Is it possible at once to defeat and be overcome by the disease?
Such extravagant forebodings dwindle in the fear of moment,
like a great visitation of the past that dwarfed the mayhem of WWI,
wonder if libertarians had qualm with “Spanish” Flu, or accepted it
as a benign nomenclature for a deadly virus wiping millions east and west.
But I'm showered with anxiety over the news of climbing toll and hospital shortages
while experts warn this is 'tip of the iceberg', but not any iceberg, why I suddenly feel they
all have Titanic in mind and the boats' shortages. Do not give tamely to plague of fears,
my mind searching frantically for the desire for courage that thrives in the heart of every great
calamity, for sure future's window stays resolutely closed without it, call it an unqualified view
of our future prospects vested in our present isolation and self-imprisonment, in the midst of our sadness and bewilderment, recognizing the enormity of the challenge ahead, posing as an
existential threat, a recurring nightmare stealing the fortunes of present generation, rudely
disrupting their routines, but hopefully only a dent on their dreams
I have noticed
all my daily educational journeys
begin with,
Where do I come from?
And how do I feel today
about my journey so far from yesterday?
Our journey so far,
and yet not far enough?
I come from living waters
as profoundly liberating as the air
we would soon learn to breathe.
I am feeling sad
for all the opportunities I avoided
to escape all the risks
invited by my shortages of curiosity
and patience,
Sad for settling into my most intimate low commons denominator
lack of commitments
neglecting my healthiest potential connections
with other living waters,
natural spirited inspired inspirational experiences
With those who might have had ears to hear,
surf to ebb and swell emotion's wane and wax,
with low-bar instructions
to stay out of troubled oceans
seas and seasons,
lakes and swampy ponds,
waiting to be industriously drained,
rivers and endless wondering wandering tributaries
of wet extracted nutrition.
Sacred water murmurs more active hope,
a spray tickling across a lucid lupine stream
speaking mountain voices with and through rounded
risky
stones
Actively seeking sights higher
deeper
wider
narrower
there
here
then flowing on into higher water marks
now threatening to swamp organisms
and organizations along the shore
of change in all relationships of Earth.
I feel sad
I have not set my well-watered sights higher
than do no harm
to those living waters
flowing forward into time's healthiest
transparent
vulnerable,
curious and courageous future sluggish currents of nutrition,
prophets of soon to come malnutrition,
and all climatic hopes and fears
angers and sadness
in-between drowning risks
and strong-flowing currencies of win/win
wellness watering opportunity
To notice
all my daily educational journeys
begin with,
Where did I come from?
And how do I feel healthy today
about my journey sufficiently far from yesterday?
Our journey so significantly far,
and yet not far enough?
The Lies of Michael Moron
Among the left and the delusional
He is the unsung hero
As long as you don’t fact check
And live in a world called reality
An advocate who lies and twists statistics
I invite the man
Go live in Cuba
With no money
He is a multimillionaire
Pulling the wool over the poor
And uneducated
Need I tell you Moore?
These days we expect politicians to lie and steal
When I see environmentalists and advocates doing far worse
It makes me sick
To think they profiting from slick propaganda's’ tricks
He reminds me of a hybrid of
Trump, Clinton, Suzuki and the preacher
Called Jimmy Baker
A snake oil salesman
Would have higher standards
Notes: He claims Cuba and Canada have better healthcare than the USA, well I invite him, come here, or go to Cuba, with out his millions made from lying and deceiving people, and give that a try. I have been all over all three countries, and let me tell you, he is completely wrong. You have to be delusional to think Cuba has better healthcare, they have trouble feeding their own people, there, and everyone is equal, equally poor that is.
I actually worked with a brain surgeon from Cuba, who, on his vacation drove a taxi to make more money in 2 weeks than he did all year. The stories he told me of shortages and lack of care was horrific.
In Canada, we have free healthcare, except when is not free and you have to pay, oh my, confusing yes? It sure is, yes many services are free, and many are not. However, what is the point of free if the waiting list is 2 years and you will die in 3 months? In some parts of Canada, over 1000 patients leave the emergency rooms of hospitals a day, because of the waiting times. A boy with a finger cut off waits 18 hours to see a doctor. And on and on I could go.
There is a cruel desolation these days in death
No comfort in congregational crowds.
Fear crackles on every street corner
With wary social distancing observed
On the wards,the lives of victims and carers
Held in healing and helpless hands
Too little gear to keep them safe
And shortage of drugs to palliate the pain.
Why the shortage of machines to let them breathe?
Beneath the hopeful promises of pestilential
Politicians bewildered by their ignorance
Over the insidious and devious virus
There is clearly panic,gnawing at their nerves
Bleak,apocalyptic end- of -days sensations
This darkness do shroud, our exit befogged
Flailing and hoping,failing and groping
Underlining starkly our human frailty
And turn our faces to the wall or God
Too many sacrificed to the pandemic shortages
Lives lost to lack of foresight and pecuniary policy
All lives under threat from the invisible Covid-19
With so many lungs by its deadly threads deeply invaded.
Yesterday the temperature was 111 degrees in my neck of the woods, and today is much like yesterday except for a degree or two on the down. Don't we just love those weak cooling trends? The forecast promises a week's supply of 100 plus days in secession. This is the first major heat wave of Mr. Summer, and Mr. AC reluctantly went on this morning in the 9 O'clock hour. Mr. AC looked at me questionably and said, "Are you sure about this?" I said to him, "Of course I am indeed sure about that and I'm counting on you to faithfully execute your God-given duty of keeping us cool".
Mr. Summer never ceases to live up to his name, often bringing massive wild fires and lots of pain. Man-made cooling and few if any power shortages are what I'm praying for and expecting until Mr. Autumn arrives.
Mr. Autumn and Miss Spring are two of my favorite friends, and every year I look forward to them. Being very aware of Mr. Summer's actions, Mr. Autumn is pleading for some relief, but is patiently waiting his own season. Mr. Autumn promises faithful delta breezes cruising through the central valley like a luxury ocean liner docking port to port. He will bring color filled leaves bathed in beauty, falling from the trees like snow flakes in Mr. Winter 's world.
Mr. Autumn speaks to us with the spirit of gratitude in the language of harvest, of reaping, and the scales of balance. He bridges the gap of hot and cold, rendering solace to our souls. Mr. Autumn knows no greed. He speaks the language of a feeder. He's a giver and not a taker. He's indeed a God send.
081620PSCtest, Serenity Awakened, Regina McIntosh
Began so promising
As thoughts of a new year approached
Some called it a year of new beginnings and clarity
That 20/20 vision of sorts
Unknown and foreign
You found your origins in a faraway land
Yet soon enough, you would break the barriers of
Race, class, religion, and international borders
YEAH! You’re indiscriminate
Lock down, shut down and shortages
A daily struggle we endured
The knowledge of your existence, coupled with fear
Put the world on notice that we were in control of NOTHING
You wrestled even the healthiest to their breaking point
Them now depending on machines to inhale and exhale
You took the weakest and oldest, showing no mercy
Masks, gloves, tissue, sanitizer; even Lysol and Clorox
Became luxury items
Almost two years later
Vaccinations, side effects and still, MASKS
Are a daily reminder that
Covid made it’s way to every point of the world
And still; we are in control of NOTHING
December 30, 2021
Contest: Coronavirus (COVID-19) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liquori
Friends our Government are setting up a Governance board to censor you, tag you, give you a fine, or put you in jail if you voice an opinion they don't like. They hired Nina Jankowicz to monitor all social media. If you don't think the collapse of free speech is here, without sounding rude, your living under a rock. Friends Fertilizer plants are being destroyed. Farmers cannot grow crops because of it. Farmers are also being paid not to grow crops. The biggest export port in the world, in Shanghai is shut down, the seventh largest port in British Columbia also. Like I have been screaming, they are orchestrating food shortages. Why? More control of you. You will have to eat their food which I would starve before eating. Also the supply for gas will diminish and there will be rationing all done on purpose. Get your houses in order. Stock up on food. Move away from the cities, start growing your own food. Start preparing for whats coming. As they call it The Great Reset. If you don't know what that is , please look it up. The New World Order, in other words. They will eliminate cash and bring in the Bitcoin currency for more monitoring of where your spending your money. If you speak against them your funds will vanish. Soon we will loose all power, no phone usage, no electricity, etc . They will blame lets say the Russians or another similar group. Read your bibles especially Revelation. God doesn't lie. He told you in Revelation what is coming. He told you before I did. If you don't know Jesus, now is the most important time to know him, because it is sad to say that those days spoken of Revelation are here now. God bless you all and may the good Lord be with you...
Please check out, A Call For An Uprising on YouTube
and The Prepared Homestead on YouTube
Just like now, there were both the good old days and the bad old days. There were many things we wished would go away; others we hoped would stay. Such reality speaks to the core of 'simply life', offering the bitter with the sweet. There was never an era, a season, a civilization whose experiences were always 'treats'. But I hasten to say that most times the good out numbered and out weighed the bad. Even in bad times, the good sustained us in the bad, and we were grateful for what we had.
Hostile realities are never times to wish for days gone by, because 'time only advances'. Life demands that we lock hands with 'the mobility of time' and learn new and better dances. Such 'Divine time' compels a dance to the tunes of absolute and eternal values that never change. It's like discovering a circular world on one hand, while still being able to explore the open range.
We experienced severe shortages of privileges and rights, but a treasure house of family caring. One could say that yesterday was both the best and worst of times, and also rather daring.
I once experienced an inspiring and entertaining musical by college students. There was one episode of singing and dancing to the theme of what I assumed was, "Tomorrow is Paradise!". Upon commending the lead singer at the close of the program, he indicated that I was mistaken in what I heard and replied to me, "No, Today is Paradise!". It is one musical that I shall long remember. I therefore say today, here and now; whatever our yesterday was and whatever our tomorrow will be, we owe it to ourselves and our posterity to declare by faith in God with much confidence and good deeds, "Today is Paradise!".
08312017cj PS
Oy Vey Smear -
More'n' $500.00 For Car Repair!
Hence mine plaintive strut forward
doleful poetically lamentable
forlorn shell shock mental state
Hyundai deniably forced
me to absorb, sans
requisite auto repair tab
this (Sonata kidding) reality
steered me sigh key -
wracked (in my pinion)
into abysmal suspension tooting horn aye
didst painfully, palp
ably, and pathetically,
(albeit mutinous on bounty of life)
envisioned good bye
regarding woebegone condition
wallet sadly, how checking account
suffered near mortal blow -
cents less lee principally reason cry
ying yup possibly heard, asper
the doll la bills blues and die,
perhaps hastiness dashing
off metrical missive
blindsided, clouded, and obscured
wheely tired call for Eli
(schwa sound) to whisk
this mister where angels fly
essentially taking Matthew
Scott Harris goodbye
from money shortages, away high
yar into the outer reaches
of the twilight auto zone
yet...deep down I dear
lee would rather engine ear
a rescue attempt by claiming fear
less flyer self as charity and gear
legitimate funding to help
a worthy cause, but such chutzpah,
would be here
see within thy coda,
dogma, and car ma,
thus eye shed headlights for
"NON FAKE" truth to app pear.