Long Stealing Poems
Long Stealing Poems. Below are the most popular long Stealing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stealing poems by poem length and keyword.
They felt elated, walking
on the grainy golden sand,
Hand in hand occasionally
Stealing a passionate kiss.
The evening’s first star shone
So luminous and bright.
The sea was so calm that night.
Little did they know
What was to befall them!
They found a secluded cove.
Love was abundant all around,
Until the earth shook in a quake.
Large tsunami waves
Carried them to their demise.
The ambulance came.
The nurses identified the corpses.
There they were on the beach
Still in a sweet embrace.
Must have been that freak tsunami
Someone wise said.
Another asked cynically.
Do ghosts still make love?
Look amidst the glorious tray
To see the terrain our act has played
Whether for the love or fun of it
The future will tell of what is done
My heart pants
For that which my eyes do see
Even less than that which is played on our screen
Our nation turning to the day of Samaritans
While our heads make their ways
To enrich their Masters offshore
The first change in global debt
And the second our fate is yet to know
But of great relief of more debt as at first
And it's tagged the next level!
Where have we got it wrong?
Which God have we offended?
That I can go to appease
On the elm of debt our representatives
Intend to renovate a building on billions
Yet the court rooms are good looking
For rodents to make as abode
The hospitals are well equipped
For the surgery of the mosquitoes
The roads daily grow to be vampires
We so have much to eat
That penury is the chief cook
In these you tend to seize our voice
Yet both old and young will be ready
To sing your praise
Upon the discharge of five naira at the stadium
Hear oh hear us
For our cry is enough to make an ocean
Daily do we do this
For that which hits our intestines for food and blood to death
We're blessed, yes we're
And let this be our pride
That you cease lending for the sake of the fetus
And for our nation not to be in the state of Samaria
Least we call on God to deal with you like Sanni Abacha
Hear me oh gracious God
To save your people from this slavery of next level being unfold.
Seems life is a little harder these days
through no fault of our own
times are tough all over the place
for some it’s the worst we have known.
Things are not as convenient or easy
as they were in days gone by
Cheating and stealing are the way now
No morals or values apply
But can’t we dream of a day to come
When integrity will shine through
and people will remember the simple things in life
the happy memories we once knew.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have that feeling
inside when you go to bed at night
to be tired but happy in closing your day
and knowing that you did everything right.
I’m not trying to push anything on you
But think of it if you will
If it couldn’t hurt but to do it
try this, it might fit the bill.
It’s just that easy to make happen
to bow our heads morning and night
Our lives could be so much better
Certainly, a lot less of a fight.
So take the time in the morning
to thank the Lord for this day
and again in the evening remember
simply bow your head thankful, and pray.
12/2016
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The pond froze so suddenly that a duck mid-quack
found its bill glued shut, an absurd ice sculpture.
Mrs. Harlow’s terrier, mid-leap, hung suspended in the air
like a fuzzy comma, punctuating nothing.
The streetlamps blinked, then hardened into amber icicles—
even the wind gave up, curling into itself for warmth.
Old Man Greeley, halfway through shaking his fist at a squirrel,
became a monument to irritation, his mittens stiff with frost.
The children, though, were the first to notice:
they pressed their tongues to the icy slide at the park
stealing the cold for themselves.
(a quick tap-tap-tapping on an imaginary typewriter, lowercase and scattered across the page)
dear e.e.
(i)
(a small(fan))
(me)
your words(they)
(dance)
(like)
(little)
(birds)
(broken)
(free)
from (cages)
of (grammar)
(i) (love) (the way) (you) (make) (words) (do)
(things)(they) (never) (did) (before) (like)
(jumping)
(jumping) (jumping)
(off) (cliffs)
(of)
(sentences)
(and)
(flying)
(without)
(wings)
(i) (use) (your) (way)
(sometimes)
(in)
(my)
(own)
(little) (poems)
(but)
((it) (feels) (like) (stealing) (a) (song) (without) (knowing) (its) (name))
(so)
(e.e.)
(please)
(keep)
(on)
(doing)
(what)
(you)
(do)
(and)
(give) (your) (way)
(a) (name)
(so) (i) (can) (say)
(i)
(write)
(in)
(the)
(style)
(of) (e.e.) (something)
(instead) (of)
(feeling like) (a)
(thief of beauty)
(sincerely),,,
(a small(fan))
(me)
The in-sense of dying night falls
in the early morning burn.
The mating song of the beast calls in the darkness,
hyenas mimicking loved one,
per each his turn,
navigating at their clever wheel of turn, turn
turning into pleasure map of "do what thou wilt",
soul_crack, of urn.
Falling for deception, so that the false gods may Grandfather in, their idol's star craft
in djini-ology heroic return.
We come by reflections, harkened at the waters edge.
We are a marker in the sand, as the world crumbles, repealing-aeon, as sifted soot through our hands, hourglass cutting teeth, smash and grab.
In a Universe too young for this implosion ing.
Our corrosion to conformity
to society ending erosioning, with so little prompting.
As we watch from our comfortably numb
resistanktuary, of the carrion, "Dead's Retreat"
Apathy?
Nay marking an 'X' of charred remains,
in treasures stead, of we, strangers in a strange land. As it pertains to
the mystery of dancing through the space in our heads while calling for sensibilities of poisoned lead.
Caught stealing from our time past
and shadowed from another
aging twine and deepening larceny craft
of cast of lots cast last,
mirrored hive minds, ape-ing, bled from un holy rites
for it's use in kindOplasts,
dna copywriting. Copyright © GovEntity.class.
Avatar, Starbucks, Apollo, Aphrodite,
Artemis, Ad-Venti es.
Non recused, by the divine
in his un muse, sick
of our cold touch stone
mobile fold table altar
of our abbadocsyst em
forlorned murder gurney, games of usurper thrones.
Our journey sojourned, so journed, so adjourned?
without Corona Mass Hystraction drill leading
to bottomless pit-CERN,
unleashing/Demon Drones/
Main Eventi and Coronation.Infestation
manifest stationing bling bling and
"Everything Zen"... " I don't think so"?
Garland of fragrant buds in my neck,
Saffron-mixed sandal paste softly smells,
Upon chest cuddles heart-stealing love,
Heaven’s happiness here as if dwells.
___________________________
Translation (quatrain, anapaest meter) | 31.08.2025 | heaven, woman
Note: Here is a verse (in Rathoddhata meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). The poet lapses in imagination: A garland of fragrant buds is in neck, the saffron-mixed sandal paste on body, and she, who abducts your heart, hugs like a garland herself. Ah, it is as if heaven has descended down. Here is the transliteration:
Maalati shirasi jrmbhanot-mukhee
Chandanam vapushi kumkum-anvitam |
Vakshasi priyatamaa manoharaa
Svarga eva parishishta aagatah || 49 ||
Lamenting land of broken hearts left to bleed
Mahogany misery loves company on bone beach
Seas of skeletons once were hearts on sleeves
Littering black sands like sea shells knee deep
See here the hand that was severed for theft
Stealing for reasons to feed others and self
Now a part of bone beaches black sand
And in the sinful world is a handless man
See here there is a woman without her womb
She killed her children during a full moon
She blamed it on a black man sealing doom
She is destined to a bone beach tomb
The hounds of hell will chew and chew
On all the bones and skulls for food
Never will be full despite what’s consumed
For they too are damned with hunger so huge
Bone beach is where elephants go to die
Bodies bloat souls fly high
But for those who have blackness inside
Outcast to black sands hell hounds eat you alive
Climb the tree
Friend of many yours
Time passes like I know, you free
Freedom is mine to share, the news of clarity of the world
Press for togetherness
When a time has come for us, like a promise to save living
Done, for us by the rise of integrity we seek, to imagine a bless
Today is the freshness of the sky, an air to claim the dream of giving...
I earned a fruit, for you to see
Long looks of worldly fate to compare
Avidity with cope, are we hope to tread the let of me?
Follow me to heaven, a strength of all and any is ours to share...
Completely unrelated, a note from me and godly people
When the wind decides a friend is stealing fruit, its time to look and consider
The tow of truth comes for the better of examples, not the lie of a wish realizing
The act of an enemy is to let peace believe what it want's, even when peace comes from a liar?
At the end of every service each Sunday afternoon,
While walking out the back doors many sing a special tune,
Tables are set up with food and toiletries on top,
It becomes like a free food store or a gift shop,
Some Sundays there is bread, cakes and different brands of cereal,
Other times there are candles, clothes and cosmetic material,
Whatever the blessing, it is open to anyone from the congregation,
This is just an extra, not the church’s obligation
Now some people who attend are very poor, while others just have hard weeks,
Even if you’re wealthy you’re more than welcome to take a peek.
One Sunday there were boxes of sweet scented candles
I watched as a woman took more than she could handle
I offered to help her bring the boxes to her car
I knew that she had parked very far
When I got to her trunk what I did see, were ten boxes, each holding about twenty!
At first I laughed and found it kind of funny
“You must enjoy lighting candles" I said, she said "no it’s all for money"
My eyes opened wide and I asked her to clarify,
She proceeded to tell me everything she gets free, she puts on the internet for others to buy,
Now I ask you is she a genius or a criminal?
Is this something that should be viewed as minimal?
This is like Robin Hood stealing from the poor to make himself rich,
I don’t think that I am wrong for seeing a serious glitch,
The stuff that’s supplied is to help people that are struggling,
Yet this lady thinks its ok that she is smuggling,
That was the last box I ever offered to carry,
I hope that these act's of hers will somehow tarry.
By: Sabina Nicole
Contest:
Genius or criminal " True Story"