Long Socially Poems
Long Socially Poems. Below are the most popular long Socially by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Socially poems by poem length and keyword.
My life started being adopted
six weeks old I was then
thought nobody wanted me at all
the time scale changed from if to when
But early at school speech was problem
then school first day was horrendous
couldn't say my name felt real dumb
this was to be life so very mountainous
After school started work when fifteen
had numerous jobs till retire 4 years ago
but socially inept because my stammer
all these years words would not flow
In '81 got married to lovely Jean
sadly died in '82 was left on my own
got wed in '90 to my lovely Christine
real strength and rock she has shown
In that period convert to Christ
Jesus now my anchor and certain hope
speaking come to be slowly better
now living holding to my divine rope
I was open minded and accepting of people,
honest and hopeful, kind and helpful,
living in the moment unplanned and peaceful.
My intentions were good yet I'd stand up to evil,
confident natured when challenged by egos,
I didn't pass judgement and treated all equal,
except for the weirdos with whom I'd be lethal.
I didn't look at people and think I was better,
I didn't look at people and think I was lesser,
but sadly I learned that people will compete,
I didn't make competitions yet still they repeat.
I was about understanding why you were upset,
manipulators were the ones I would get,
who took advantage without any regret,
creating victims but never in their debt.
I appear unaware but I'm tuned into lies,
I don't need to hear them I see it in the eyes,
it's from close observation that I recognise,
there's too much activity going on in the mind.
You're not calling on a memory from a moment in time,
you're creating this entity and fitting it in line,
your brain shows you memories you don't use your eyes,
but when you create things there's need to visualise
I'm the target targeted all of the time,
they try to outsmart me and socially climb,
but repeating means practice and I detect the signs,
I move one step ahead appearing one step behind.
With honour I'll take on the one on one,
but I know now face to face isn't for some,
I play by the rules that aren't for everyone,
they go behind your back growing obsession,
the sinister armed with just this one weapon,
so when they get you they don't do it for fun,
and they got me before I knew to get them,
defeated before I knew what would happen.
And that's why I'm now someone rejecting of people,
because sometimes there's no way of noticing evil,
I wont again be damaged by those weak and feeble,
but I know if I see them I'll do something illegal
He’s heard before he enters:
you all know the drill.
He lurks in Shopping Centres,
as purposeful as krill.
Socially successful?
Like a waltz named ‘Emmet Till’.
His outcomes, too, are stressful
(see Wordsworth’s Harry Gill).
The death-knell at your dinner
with his punchline overkill,
a Jeanine Pirro ‘winner’:
each day a No True Bill.
His laugh’s as loud as mowers
or dad’s electric drill,
or over-taxed leaf blowers,
or an angry whippoorwill.
Denizen of the diner,
you know, for good or ill,
he’ll use his new one-liner:
audience feedback? Nil.
Why repeat the spasm?
Get up each morning, still?
He’s conscious of that chasm,
that hole he’s got to fill.
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Mind where you put your feet,
When you are absent without leave,
In a year of pandemic.
You might think it is only academic,
If you miss socially distancing by a few feet,
And pass on covid before you leave.
Mind where you put your feet,
As the tune you are dancing to, may have contained a virus,
When you downloaded it,
Mind where you put your feet,
As it is easy to lose focus,
And put your foot in it.
Mind where you put your feet,
As children are still Playing in the street,
And they need their parents to stay on their feet,
To avoid a life on the street,
With few places to safely put their feet.
Lumbering bulldozers grind
and rip trees and shrubs
from the empty lots, competing
with gas fumes, the noise
of trucks, and honking horns
on the busy thoroughfare.
Two gracious houses,
once precious home to families,
but long abandoned
and fallen into disrepair,
smashed to kindling,
hauled away for scrap
Just up the grassy hill
behind our senior residence,
we’ll watch another
commercial business go up.
Recent car wash on the corner,
now another bank? Fast food?
Alongside our apartments,
in the past, a Christmas tree farm,
sweet smelling pines replaced
with roads and new homes,
manicured lawns and two-,
sometimes three-car garages.
Countryside eaten away
by ever-increasing population
with insatiable desire for the
shiny, new, bigger and better,
for the quick and easy,
immediate convenience.
Afternoon teas exchanged for
socially beneficial cocktail parties.
Casual-, even sports-wear, in
the finest restaurants, rudeness
and boorish comments the norm,
“Gracious” suffering a slow death.
where do I set my bags
I believe I am dizzy from all this jet lag
passed through gas like smoke coming out of a train
I need a chair to sit down I may go insane
pass out from all the exposure of this transition
crossing the Pacific Ocean misting
clouds puffing around mountains
back up I am dizzy again did I see a clown and
a man hula hooping across a farm
no let me get together I am too paranoid
from all this sea motion
I am experiencing dysfunctional balances
bar tending soaking
Will a Mai Tai help?
is that all you are drinking
well I may as well and enjoy myself
because when take off after this vacation
I will have nothing left
especially to complain about
here we come beach side surfing zip lining
flies in my mouth
I am ready for this week
i am socially satisfied it is time to eat
pineapples coconuts with straws
while I run under a palm tree with sticky leaves
Hawaii I have come to thee
to enjoy and raise much noise
I left the kids an I am all yous
Declared an outcast,
shunned by society -
but she's the same
as you and me,
but You can't see her pain
hidden behind her coy smile.
You can't wipe away those tears,
invisible to your shallow eyes.
In fear she stares at the pavement,
but she can see you stare.
She can hear your giggles.
She can feel your judgement.
Her crime?
Only that she is different.
Freak is not her name,
but you shout it, roaring like a lion.
To you she looks peculiar and
you wonder why she behaves strange.
Her monotone words are a result of your
ignorant mind that has lead to her
indulging in esoteric tendencies.
She may seem socially awkward,
but she means no harm.
She just wants to belong -
for one soul to understand.
There is no eye contact,
because living can hurt.
Misplaced in an oblivious world,
the skies may look bright to you and me,
but all she recognises is the darkness.
The soul is deep like an ocean,
but most only see the surface.
Only a few dare to venture to the bottom -
where most drown.
Only the strong reemerge.
The Silent One
Simple Musings
24 October 2017
Let me introduce myself
The Marvel-ous Mantis - Celestial Madonna.
And what sort of person is she? You may ask.
Hopefully one you will honour.
But let her share a secret.
It helps her to think and act deeply.
I speak to myself in third person
It helps her navigate my world and relations you see.
When you read about me
I'm a confident, assertive martial artist.
My greatest power is empathy
My psychic abilities are the smartest.
Mantis even communicates with plants
And I can manipulate through telepathy.
But she wants to clarify that she only
Employs for the greater good such super capability.
But what I fail to understand
Is why there's a change
In how I'm perceived
When I'm on film. It is strange!
It's as though this Madonna
Loses her assertion, becomes naive
Added to this, socially awkward!
Who would believe?
Yet a leaven like confidence
Starts gradually developing.
Though she knows it exists within her
Her silent screams for it keep beckoning!
All the same, my heroinship
Remains a constant, ever true.
I am caring, empathetic and loyal.
The very qualities that matter to you.
A sudden revelation to her own conundrum...
Her difference read and filmed, she offers why.
Could it be that Mantis, Madonna, yes I
Am simply a little camera shy?
Series of my controversies
Are signs of our differences,
Palaver in my spirit,
Making me feel like a culprit,
The ritual by my fingers,
Are what i call impending dangers,
It creates controversies
It supplied miseries.
Physically and mentally,
Spiritually and socially
It sends my soul to penury,
A strange and unusual penury.
Mine is the groaning soul,
Mine is the unwanted zeal,
An urge that makes me err,
An urge the morals fear.
Yours is like a bright candle light
For your heart is without plight,
And your fingers, innocent.
If my heart will gather momento
And control the members that carry out
The wishes of my urge.
Then i shall become like you
And my soul will groan no more.....
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Another song for all addicts.