Long Stipend Poems
Long Stipend Poems. Below are the most popular long Stipend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stipend poems by poem length and keyword.
A corner has been turned
A chapter has been burned
A stipend has been earned —
Was it by me?
You can’t unearth a friend
If he’s stuck in the deep end
And he sure as hell cannot pretend
He’s free
Someday, you'll be as real as me
Look in the beggars mind
And here is what you’ll find
A sunrise that once shined
Now cold and gray
In crocodile remorse,
Wives file for divorce
Then send their husbands through
the bootcamp course, so gay
Someday, they’ll all be real as me
Real though I may be,
I’m just a totem pole
A wooden icon, disengaged
From body and from soul
Take your protein straight
No dispensaries of hate
Those confined must separate
Their rooms so deep
While down here in the maze,
With the labyrinth of your gaze,
I wander hungry as you smolder in ashtrays
Then sleep
Someday love, you’ll be
As real as me
I Don't Want to Live This Life
(Change of pace equals review of book
long out of circulation,
but eyes experience immediate hook
so perhaps...take a look
and best locate a cozy nook).
Authored by Debbie
Spungen early 1980's,
yours truly doth recommend
perhaps Facebook
message I will send
whose person I would
be eager to befriend
cuz, title of poem by me,
and book written, sans arduous
motherhood to contend
by above (now octogenarian) gal,
a pitched battle blend
of brute confessional honesty,
and maternal love,
yet heaven forfend,
such sacrifice after gleaning
(of... course add in mix amidst end
of post World War II establishment,
viz hippie revolution number 9)
now only praise, aye absolutely commend
dubble "NOT FAKE" grueling
tale of emotional survival
during anti war
counter cultural trend
insert flaps did bend
immediate curiosity as
spurious hours to expend
choice of reading material,
thus found this bookworm
trying to comprehend
analogous taming wild animal
hence, engrossed many hours on end
today sunday February 17th, 2019
since birth Nancy Spungen the
firstborn and utter archfiend,
whose decade long trajectory,
yet to complete reading
harrowing story til the bloody end,
where near total
mortal kombat doth descend
how young mom stayed sane
one can only applaud and defend,
the monster birthed
from doting parents,
as both key figures
appeared to extend
more patience than Job,
mebbe wounds will never mend
unfortunate unbearable task
since day one did portend
a downward spiral, each day and night
for twenty orbits of Earth round sun
surviving family members
punishing trial may forever
garner kudos to legend
deary selflessness still
cost steep psychological stipend.
Seems like old retired guys can always find somethin' to do,
Even if its sittin' on a couch watchin' TV and sippin' a brew.
Or they could be sittin' on a park bench feedin' the pigeons,
Or slurpin' coffee with pals discussin' politics and religions.
If he's a vet he's apt to hang out at The Legion with other old vets,
Rehashin' nonsensical military days with little or no regrets.
When they run out of ideas for creatin' dozens of bird houses,
They try to manage the household to the annoyance of their spouses!
At the end of the month they stroll to their mailboxes agin' and agin',
To see if their social security stipend and other relief checks are in.
Some old retired guys like to babble ad infinitum and reminisce,
While others take pen in hand to compose ludicrous twaddle like this!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
We were (Leong, Peter, Anna and I) eating at a popular Italian eatery (outdoors) and the check arrived - I swooped across the table and grabbed the check from the waiter. Peter whispers, “You can’t pay for everything the entire weekend.” “Why not?” I say, “It makes me happy.” “There’s no reason to,” he says. “I need a REASON??” I snort, which always makes Leong laugh. “Have you MET me?” I say, shaking my head dubiously. “I’ve met you,” he pronounces, “and you’re a NUT. Thank you,” he says, indicating the check exasperatedly.
Peter’s transfinancial: a rich man trapped in a poor man’s body. He has taste but he exists on a grant and a meager stipend. We’re just friends but I’m holding a bag and he’s not. Besides, he needs a new laptop - badly - and shouldn’t be squandering his grips on me.
Greek-life is on the rise. Maybe it's because those groups offer planned social events or because, with COVID winding down (covid smovid) there’s more going on. There’s a pressure here - to be your most authentic self - to be top academically, socially - to have your calendar filled out. There’s a frantic nature to it. I’m being lowkey rushed for a fraternity (for next year) but I love my roommate situation and I think I’d druther stick with this set I love.
Which begs the question about social time. Should it be methodical, relentless, super planned out? Super planned interactions can seem transactional and not easy going and natural. College social life is so different from high school. College life is so much more charged in every way. The range of people you meet, the broader perspectives, the available options for activities.
I find myself in a search for balance. Private time vs social time. Before covid, you’d go to school and then you’d come home to your room, where you could just hang out. It was a self-care place.
At university, a dorm room is less of a “home” where you can be alone and spend that healing time. You never know who's going to be in your living room and what they’re up to. I get claustrophobic when my door is closed so I rely a lot on noise-canceling technology.
A dorm room can seem like those covid lockdown days - there’s little or no separation between academic and private space. I’m just unpacking some thoughts. *shrug*
Slang:
set = click/group
grips: duckets/money
holding a bag = flush/monied
In bridled hovel on denuded strand
Tanned damsel loiters on barter stand
Waiting for purloined fealty her title to brand
Festooned in ritual garb, decked with lavish garland
As noble peacock, her fecund colors are fanned
Waiting eligible suitors her utility, virility to scan
Her father a lofty price doth rightly command
To root out pilfering charlatan, worthless brigand
A reputable family with aspirations noble, grand
Bids for the honor of reticent, sheltered hand
Her elder for propriety doth initial offers withstand
Until the esteemed value of his ward family doth understand
A suitable piece of fertile lowland he indignantly demands
In order his tribal status and perpetuity to expand
With gratuitous stipend in token parlance panned
In customary deference, contrite bride accepts husband
Last night I awoke to the sign of Orion, and the big dipper pouring beauty into her
countenance.
Though the stars say she is a Capricorn, a meager goat, I see Orion’s majesty every time I
stare into here full lips and wide Sophia Lauren Smile.
Her sleek and slender body bodes of Spartan stubbornness.
A stubbornness that’s had me fuming on the wrong kind of sides, of the wrong kinds of days.
Most days, we spend our lives like firefighters, putting out 101 degree fevers, cars
breaking down, and trying to make ends meet on a student’s stipend,
And as days pass, we see separation as an impossibility for how could we possibly survive
without each other?
But last night, I was freed from the stress of overfilled garbage cans and overdue
research projects,
To see her high and lifted up in the unconditional light which she shines for so many,
So many children, to whom she’s been a second mother, screaming, “Ms. Lucas!!!, Ms.
Lucas!!!,” as we see them in the mall.
The countless times that she’s saved me form suicide with a hope unfettered and sincere,
You see last night, I got a quick glimpse into my life as heaven sees it, and I saw my
wife for the first time, lifted high into the deep night, shining for the world.
Oh don’t get me wrong, I truly see her everywhere,
Every where there is courage, I see her wringing the neck of the crack head that almost
kidnapped our oldest in Chicago,
Every time I see kindness, I see her soothing voice in my ear saying, “Keep going baby,
you’re almost out of the tunnel.”
Whenever I see pain, I see her face when she looked down at her dead father’s body, stoic
and resolved that his tragedy would not mar her memory of his greatness.
Every time I see strength, I see a woman who buried her brother in the same summer of her
honeymoon and still smiled wide with sincerity.
But last night, God removed the veil, and I saw her through heaven’s eyes,
Glorious and heroic,
And in that moment I realized that nothing can stop me, because I sleep next to Orion.
Machel, the hero of old.
He was a born teacher
From birth destined to be
You'd know by his phene.
In capitalist-run schools
He's taught for many years
Earning pennies for labour.
Three years a beneficiary
On stipend of N-power teach
The Program axed by corruption.
Then long a community teacher
He's rendering public service
For little pay out of community levy.
He's adept; he got more papers
Hoping for full employment
With satisfaction in the job.
He got a conversion to EdoStar
State-run, two-year probationer
On the barest wage.
On his appointment
In the civil service, he got
The news of his careerlong pursuit.
The government is youth-centric
On account of his age, maybe his status
Or affiliation, he's disqualified.
Meanwhile politikers in the council
Of politricks make millions
By the seconds chattering all day.
in lieu as payment for buzzfeed ding,
livingsocial, lodging, et cetera accommodations.
the best buy google research to locate a
handy dandy blues clues milieu, true
value venue iterated above reference
to intentional communities, yet no idea
this bumbling, fumbling, rambling,
et cetera twisted missive would find me
making mention of a logically obvious
proscribed resource. upon setting
my figurative sights regarding the end
ever explicitly, fixedly, and pointedly
to communicate how to adopt modalities
helping other people (in ways within
my capacity), the undercurrent, sans
writing this epistle, an off the beaten
track prospect found unplanned impregnated
insinuation cradling embryonic vision
visited by the secondary modus operandi.
the bespoken ambition (asper reciprocating
the consideration to pursue voluntary
employment. ideally this agreeable deal
(includes a small stipend plus room
and board). the inclusion of the latter
(tacked on as a strong consideration -
figured as welcome visualized reprieve.
hence this prosaic/ poetic add on -
at no extra charge - slightly expanded
the original intended tone of this blurb.
rather than dismiss tangential thread
mainly to air considerations divergent
incorporating alternative arrangements
to call home already moderately
lengthy soundcloud, i freely shared
a tangential welcoming pseudo string
of consciousness thread.
Allow NO ONE to belittle you
for the position or field you have
either chosen or landed –
whether it be temporal or permanent,
whether it be a job or a career –
to you.
If it’s legal –
regardless of what it is you DO –
It is most definitely HONEST living.
There’s NO shame whatsoever,
Only MODESTY and DIGNITY
in TRUTH and HONESTY!
Hence, give NO regards to those that underestimate you
For whatever it is you DO for a living in your occupational field.
Let NO ONE speak ILL of you for doing NOTHING else for NO ONE!
If you have EVER been EMPLOYED, you are SELFLESS – not SELFSH –
By having worked for someone, you’ve invested in THEIR dream, contributing to THEIR success and constructing toward THEIR achievements – NOT YOURS – one brick at a time – even LONG AFTER you’ve already been honorably resigned or abruptly terminated!
For the term you’ve served or filled – however LONG or however SHORT –
You’ve occupied “the vacancy” and fulfilled whatever “the need”
you DO or DID…every day you reported for work in exchange for a
“stipend net change” of the business founder’s “gross pay dollar…”
YOU, SELFLESS DREAM-BUILDER, YOU….?•
Reflection, relaxation around the bend
Long work week careening to dead end
Hard work's gratuities in rear view portend
A brief sabbatical our inflated value to pretend
Week's rat race with slower pace will amend
All unnecessary pursuits from mind rend
With less tedious chores gladly contend
Forced hand, mental strain not extend
Only pent-up energy limbs will expend
Trivial pursuits, television deserved dividend
A new book, movie, that mind's eye did recommend
A new restaurant our acquiring tastes to commend
Friends, family to hearth's door hungrily descend
Grilled burgers, hot dogs to nominal appetites append
Haute cuisine, to our genteel friends a stipend
At day's end, on creaky, front porch swing addled bodies suspend
With Nature's slower rhythms, contented minds blend
At midnight a stiff tonic still lingering cares to fend
Staggering to bed senses too dulled life to comprehend
Into deep, requiting sleep, missed week's. hours addend
Alarm clock slumbers on and rested bodies wake at ten
To a frothy cappuccino morn's hangover to promptly mend