Long Squandering Poems
Long Squandering Poems. Below are the most popular long Squandering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Squandering poems by poem length and keyword.
Woman's Right Oath
Welfare fraud, ghetto sex slave triumphant
Bestow death upon civilization
Embarrassment for all positive outlook flowers
And further destruction and reviling vanity mirrors
Reframing gas fare and squandering progress from llc
Charity horror film of life
Celebrity definer lightstyles
.gov vs .org
Bad .com bubble
Like in Los Angeles they hide the homeless money
Civil rights jobs and homeless services jobs
While people die they degrade your future and use slush fund for celebrity politician style affluent designer lifestyle evil
Hob nobbing as lobby at legal threshold of litigation exposure
These are the beggar girls you give money to from there crafty pity subsidize me while I criminology, psychology and pharmacy rep with risk assessment software in sub contracted social services sector of church funded non profit
Wasted words of Poetical Incorrectness
Words are precious commodities not traded
as their value is just too high.
Words of falsehood are a waste of words
as in time the truth will always negate the lie.
Like running the water when brushing your teeth
is a waste of precious H 2O.
Words said in abundance when there's no one listening
there is a waste there also.
Words that are used when they don't need to be said
is a squandering of valuable assets.
Like a contractor building a house
that will never be used ,lived in or possessed.
Using valuable words to ones, that are unwilling to hear
is a waste of your breath, your ink and your time
Like Jesus said when talking about his opposers
it's like "throwing pearls to the swine".
Superfluous words are a needless repetition
a use of words that is unnecessary
Repeating the same things just so they can be heard
this is a warning to the unwary.
Words that are spoken to those unable to hear
are words that fall on deaf ears
Words that are written that are never read
are wasted words falling like the poets tears
Using unkind words in a heated rage is a waste of
words as they incinerate the page
Sometime later in a calmer state those words are
regretted and usually replaced
In conclusion, my dear fellow poets who write words
of troubled sorrow and eloquence
Let's not waste our precious time, ink and talent
on those who practice poetical incorrectness.
John Derek Hamilton
February 02,2016
Woman's Right Oath
Welfare fraud, ghetto sex slave triumphant
Bestow death upon civilization
Embarrassment for all positive outlook flowers
And further destruction and reviling vanity mirrors
Reframing gas fare and squandering progress from llc
Charity horror film of life
Celebrity definer lightstyles
.gov vs .org
Bad .com bubble
Like in Los Angeles they hide the homeless money
Civil rights jobs and homeless services jobs
While people die they degrade your future and use slush fund for celebrity politician style affluent designer lifestyle evil
Hob nobbing as lobby at legal threshold of litigation exposure
These are the beggar girls you give money to from there crafty pity subsidize me while I criminology, psychology and pharmacy rep with risk assessment software in sub contracted social services sector of church funded non profit
You seem immune to worry or concern,
you haven’t a care in the world.
Perhaps you think you’ll somehow live forever
defying laws that have ruled time itself.
Disturbs me to see time wasted away.
Are we possibly stuck at an impasse ~
tangible reality juxtaposing mundane absurdity?
You close your eyes the world stops,
how are you so carefree?
Perhaps you cater to the ludicrous delusion
that by ignoring time you’ll outrun it.
Pains me to see time wasted away.
I’m beyond comprehending such nonchalance,
time is irrefutably a most valuable commodity.
Moments elapsed are irreversibly gone ~
their squandering an unforgivable crime.
Kills me to see time wasted away.
Lineku: 3 stanzas of 5-7-5 lines, each line has 5 or 7 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on September 20, 2025 for contest PERHAPS, A POEM submittted by JOHN LAWLESS - Honorable Mention
I didn’t mean to interrupt you,
But I must leave you for a while
I didn’t mean to alarm you in any way possible,
But…I’ll be back – I’m not a deleted file
The walls are haunting me…
Intimidating me…
The pictures are bringing me back bittersweet memories
Tainted miseries…
The floors are soon to be
Full of dust, dirt and dust bunnies
The sky’s skillfully shelters the Earth’s inhabitants
The ocean…and its mesmerizing motion
Grazes playfully above disconsolate clouds
The hills and mountains
Brings me higher in happy states
It uplifts the blue and the morose things
My brain spins faster than the Earth’s axis
And I finally flee…
From the chaos that tries to attack me
I don’t want to cause corruption in this
World of Woe
Don’t subside from the truth
That sets us free from the snare
Run faster than that silly hare
I won’t give in to enrapturing rue
But I mustn’t break the boundaries
Or be stuck in between…
I missed out and I haven’t a clue
What you’ve gone through,
Forget about
The adversaries of the wicked past
They stepped foot in my mind’s eye
They lie about everything that comes to pass; they try to bring them below their feet
They cry out for your whole being…they’re left incomplete
Bu, you’re a different story
A future full of glory
Dismiss the depression wars
Devour the adversaries, always wanting more and more and more
The demons will keep exploring
The land of squandering quarrels
You, on the other hand, must discover
The peace-abiding angels that have more in store
They whisper in our ears:
“Don’t look back in the perilous past,
Move forward into the unknown future,
Cast away the sorrows of yesterday
And hope for a triumphant tomorrow!”
Feel Good Moments
By: Miracle Man
8/7/2019
As each dawn breaks thoughts I ransack,
In search for substantive things to say.
Often its past history that will spring back,
And sometimes my heart, emotions betray.
I’m sometimes engrossed in a younger time,
Before clock had recorded its mark on me.
Times were peaceful with less organized crime,
With no thoughts of protest by taking a knee.
But most days I rise early and sit pondering,
About those matters holding relevance to me.
Never giving thought to the time I’m squandering,
But time will progress according to God’s decree.
By twilight, the west breeze sings a catchy tune,
Pearl's fingers raved by stars and the roved moon.
When you're down, I'll be there to hearten your day,
If you're antsy, I'll yearn to allay your dismay and pray.
I'll shed a tear and ease your pain while we are here,
Vibes are forlornly sad, won't let you wiggle to the rear.
But here we are, wishing to drop into another place,
Let us look at the brain trap's root in clear space.
I was all I'm not in one shot—creative and attractive,
When drawing blusterous is the unique alternative.
I remember having pals, pens, paper, and a dream,
Belonging to what's not lifeless or hollow, as a team.
Live in the present and simply absorb everything in,
Yield all your focus forthwith, or sire another skin.
Don't let your mind stray to what will unfold next,
Don't misuse this chance; rather, yield your best.
We are not always urged to strain any color we see,
But to design hues and become who you aim to be.
Don't allow kismet to lead your rush through today,
Albeit, too many superb times will be thrown away.
For the one, you're with now, at this special time,
Allot them your utter care; be there and sublime.
When ready, put on a vibe and start the journey.
In concrete cracks, roses may bloom; unseat worry,
Our life's doom can be twisted in a jiff second,
Once it is waged, views and deeds are reckoned.
In just a few minutes, you may meet a friend.
Discover love, or watch a story trigger or end.
Eons are all we have, yet are costly and few,
Optional of owning it or squandering it, up to you.
Listen to my heart, look into my eyes, heal my pain,
Kiss me, let's a gambit, and abscond from here again.
Learn to rise and fall. This life is not looking at you,
Be vehement, zealous, and apt to be over your shoe.
I'm caring for you; you are the rhythm of my heart,
Your love plugs into my life, as we've never been apart.
Written: March 15, 2023
Now That We Are Here Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
We Must Make Good Use of Our Riches
LK 16:1-13
Then he also said to his disciples"A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property.
He summoned him and said, 'What is this I hear about you?
Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.
' The steward said to himself,
'What shall I do, now that my master is taking the position of steward away from me?
I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg. I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, they may welcome me into their homes.'
He called in his master's debtors one by one. To the first he said, 'How much do you owe my master?'
He replied, 'One hundred measures of olive oil.' He said to him
'Here is your promissory note. Sit down and quickly write one for fifty.'
And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently...
The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones;
the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones.
No servant can serve two masters.
He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon." (Taken from LK 16:1-6, 8, 10, 13)
On the sunset porch, I spatter my breath.
Return the favor so that can fulfill my task.
I'm merely observing people passing through.
Continue speaking with sleazeball lips.
Remnants of alive memories.
Sing to amply demonstrate the dedication.
Thusly, overcome with the eager desire to sob.
I cleave to the pieces of dead maps you are grasping.
On the grounds that I entered the hole to steep it.
As well, mutiny spread in all banausic ways.
I'm crouching beneath the wishing arbor, as you can view.
My most fervent hopes are being warped in odd angles.
To the wondrous strains of a mournful tune.
My heart expresses a desire for raw skin.
In the folds of the reach, light candles of wonder.
My mind is brimming with gloomy shades.
Arrange for the upheaval of gray memory strands.
I applaud my post-injury morality.
And I recall this to the best of my cognitive ability.
That is all in a proper sense.
On saddle cushions, I slept properly.
I buried you on your own holy patch of land.
Nobody grasps me in this squandering.
Nobody compares to my image in mirrors.
Written: February 16, 2022
The lady in red
Ah, Cristiane, so tall an elegant you are
Your dress richly red cost more than a pensioner’s yearly pay
Perfect your make-up; did you need help?
Ah, Cristine, you are so stern, a tanned gym mistress
wants us to pay our taxes on time, be modest in our pay demand
You are a Goddess and therefore pay no taxes
Ah, Cristine, I saw you once at Gar Du Nord in Paris, boarding a train
tall you were, among grey-suited men, deeply tanned your face
Your silk scarf is so colourful; who is your hairdresser?
Ah, Cristine, severely you lectured the Greeks squandering money
Demanding they pay promptly and save on social expenses.
The day you went for a holiday in the Bahamas.