Long Stroke of a pen Poems
Long Stroke of a pen Poems. Below are the most popular long Stroke of a pen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stroke of a pen poems by poem length and keyword.
I have sent a special letter to you
To remind you of what you ought to do
I‘ve sent it through the express mail
So, search diligently for it until you find it
The market is crowded
And you cannot sell iron for profit.
The hours have already come
When you must make that final run.
I’ve sent the letter to you,
to tell you that my long
-awaited dreams have come true
I’ve sent the letter to you,
To tell you that the mission has survived
I woke up this morning with courage in my head
And found water running in the bed
The street was clean and neat
And the people for the first time
display a sense of purpose in the street.
For the first time I felt a different mood in the town
And reality starts moving around
I did not know what to say,
So, I kept silent least my heart gave me away.
I pretend as if nothing was moving way.
As the morning rise,
heaven became my new “bride”
And I reach towards the benevolent sky
But the sweltering heat
was already creating havoc in the street
and sweat start dripping from my face
soaking the entire human race.
The plants are beckoning for some peace
And workers have assembled in the street
waiting for the chance to find work outside of town.
The winery is where you ought to be
their goods are languishing at sea
small businesses are hanging on by the thread
so proceed with caution otherwise they will soon be dead
give them a business loan
to elevate their business back to the throne
and take them back to where destiny roam
I have sent a letter to you about a lawyer
That is walking on the street without shoe
The situation is so sad,
but at the stroke of a pen,
you will make the heavens glad.
Open the letter today
for I want the final ok
So that I can go away.
I‘ve sent a special letter to you .
George Washington chopped down a tree as a lad
Then told his dad that he'd been bad
With the stroke of a pen, Thomas Jefferson kick-started a nation
Touting revolution every so often with his Declaration
Andrew Jackson had a penchant for whiskey
Native Americans found him way too frisky
Abraham Lincoln was thin but brave
Reunited the nation and freed the slaves
As a child Teddy Roosevelt was always ill
But as President he led the charge up San Juan Hill
His cousin Franklin took over in the Great Depression
And then three times won reelection.
JFK and Jackie ushered in 'Camelot'
'Til in a Dallas motorcade he was shot
Ronald Reagan demanded the Soviets end their stall,
"Mr. Gorbachev, please, tear down that wall!"
Bill Clinton said, "It's the economy, Stupid!"
Before he was cut down by Monica and Cupid
And now Mr. Trump draw lines in the sand
Saying, "Let's make America great again!"
And did you know that Yankee Doodle preferred apple strudel
To a leftover dish of cold, wet noodles?
Hope you've enjoyed this reprise of Presidential history
Which to the majority of Americans is an absolute mystery
P.S. Rumors have it that Yankee Doodle is considering a
comeback run for POTUS in the 2020 election.
His slogan reportedly will be, "Make America
handy with Yankee Doodle Dandy."
The "Me-too" movement has already
dialed in death threats ...
Welcome to the Time Warp
Does it seems that history seemingly repeats
Where the simplicity of life is so rare to find
And the kindness of heart finds no retreats
No sharing of wealth, greediest of mankind
Where fear amongst the masses abound
Perpetrated by forces designed to protect us
Where human rights are lost without a sound
Our way of life changed, forever superfluous
Freedom of speech is silenced by the stroke of a pen
Unsure of what we’re told, will these lies never end
Being controlled by the wealthiest of businessmen
And our losses of freedom too much to comprehend
Welcome to the time warp, once again we all fall prey
We become just pawns to an unjust power once again
Perhaps it’s time to take a stand, one voice have our say
The time has come to speak freely, if not now, then when
A brush paints a picture like poetry on a page
Colors; for faded love but bathed in the brightest rays
It paints a picture of two lives, fading in graying years
Painting on a worn-out canvas, happiness and tears.
A portrait painted with pride, once worth taking the risk
Strokes painted in splinter, but underneath cracks exist
A picture hiding deception from a life unraveling in fears. A portrait painted on canvas and stained with a million tears. Memories, try to stitch and pull a sagging canvas in vain. Too much pride to cover the cost, answers back with pain So clean around the edges, through the heart, a knife, a slice.
With so much bad to tip the scale, the good must sacrifice
A painting of a sad, sad story and hangs there until the end.
Each kiss that caressed the canvas slipped away by the stroke of a pen. Hearts, peeled and broken, good times fall to the past Dreams left on the canvas. fading love that failed to last. Smiles conceal the hurt that’s tailor made to weep. Hangs there on a wall of honor but shades of pain bleeds deep. Bright colors camouflage the flaws, for beauty, a portrait thrives to betray. Now, the brushes are cleaned and conditioned and carefully put away. There remains a picture, tossed away for the buyer to collect
A blacken hue, cracked and stained, no conditioner can correct
A love now lost to memories and fading away with time
Golden rings under the looking glass, the seller’s grandest find
Anthropomorphic in nature, I stand
The last of the letters, the final brand
My sharp edges, my zigzag form
Distinctive and unique, a letter born
I am not like A, B, or C
I am not as common, as you can see
I am a letter of surprise
A letter that makes you realize
I am the sound of a buzzing bee
The zip of a zipper, wild and free
I am the end of the alphabet
The letter you can never forget
I stand tall with pride, and I shout
I am the letter Z, no doubt
I may be the last, but I am not least
I am the letter that never ceases to feast
Feast on words, and sounds, and songs
A letter that belongs
In every language, every tongue
A letter that's forever young
Anthropomorphic in nature, I may be
But I am more than just a letter, you see
I am the final stroke of a pen
The last word, the end.
:: 02.23.2023 ::
If clocks ran backwards and time did chime
The hours and the minutes of your life and mine
Would tomorrow be written by the poets and the bards
And the cruellest of sorrows in the deck of life's cards
When salvation is sought at the end of a bottle
Should we drive there directly, open road and full throttle
How I'd love to bestow all the beauty life holds
For each suffering soul, put an end to life's woes
A hitchhikers fate may be yours to command
Are the cards they've been dealt in the palm of your hand
If the tale of each fate's in the past that we've penned
Are we destined to travel the wrong road again
Should we crawl on our knees, bow down when He calls
Should we cower at heel in Elysians Halls
Is faith but a chore under tightening reins
Is religion the cure or the cause of our pains
If peace has a place in rhe hearts of all men
Could hatred be quelled at the stroke of a pen
Lay claim ro your lives in rhe Game of all thrones
Carats cut like a knife the most precious of stones
If tomorrow's been written in the annals of time
To what lies the purpose of your life or mine
Do we stand tall and proud like our fathers before
Or sink like a stone to be lost evermore
The Last Unicorn
I was with the last Unicorn
As she drew her last breath
Her horn expelled magic
As she succumbed to her death
The fairies and Gnomes
Each shed a crystal tear
At the thought of a planet
With no unicorns here
Dragons from Lost kingdoms
Came to show their remorse
The moon became unbalanced
In grief shifted off course
A Phoenix from the east
Flying on wings of fire
Tried to revive her
With flames of desire
The oceans all rose
As a show of respect
They waved to her goodbye
A loss difficult to accept
Without the unicorn
Magic shifted to men
It can only now exist
With the stroke of a pen
So poets be the keepers
Of stories new and old
We must not give up on magic
Or this world will grow cold.
June nineteenth one hundred and fifty years ago
Juneteenth hint: three hundred
and sixty six days
after eighteen sixty four.
Major General Gordon Granger
led the Union Soldiers to Galveston, Texas,
to announce the end of the Civil war
and the freedom of all enslaved people.
Jim Crow sat perched
over the event horizon
waiting in the wings,
which brought darkened
(non-sheltering) skies
not only for the hot pocket
of suddenly emancipated
persons of color,
who would subsequently experience
immense prejudice
upon their embarkation
as (no pun intended)
"masters" of their own selves
while attempting to eke out a living
dirt poor, yet resourceful
hunkering down on plantations,
which property eminent domain
of federal government,
(a political entity
characterized by union
of partially self-governing provinces,
states, or other regions),
whereby said body electric
codified, fortified, and indemnified
manifest destiny, a phrase
coined in 1845, the idea
that United States destined—
by God advocates believed—
to expand its dominion
and spread democracy and capitalism
across the entire North American continent.
Though institution of slavery
supposedly rendered null and void
at the stroke of a pen
(courtesy Abraham Lincoln)
well actual legislation
passed by Congress on January 31, 1865,
and ratified on December 6, 1865,
the 13th Amendment abolished slavery
in the United States.
Nevertheless merciless abuse
heaped upon the *****
despite their legal status
being Granted leeway
to persevere life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness.
Recognition as equal brethren
among collective soul of American
fraught with bitter aversion,
condemnation, and ejaculation
of physical and verbal violence
against people of color,
whose melanin enriched complexion
birthrights rendered hidebound
severely limited
inalienable rights as declared
in Declaration of Independence,
now still utter abhorrence
regarding treatment
of those proud enterprising people,
whose once storied
African past left in tatters
leaving sparse threads
woven together by diligent dogged research
nsync with twenty first century technology
to allow, enable and provide opportunity
to stitch together a more complete tapestry
and spiritual fusion with shackled ancestors.
"The Last of the Letters - Z" is a poem that personifies the letter Z, giving it a distinctive voice and character. The poem is structured into four quatrains and uses rhyming couplets to create a playful and whimsical tone.
The first stanza establishes the unique qualities of the letter Z, emphasizing its sharp edges and zigzag form. The letter is personified as proud and distinctive, and its position as the last letter of the alphabet is emphasized.
The second stanza contrasts the letter Z with more common letters like A, B, and C, emphasizing its status as a letter of surprise. The poem suggests that the letter Z is a sound of buzzing bees and the zip of a zipper, which creates a sense of liveliness and energy.
The third stanza reinforces the importance of the letter Z as the last letter of the alphabet. The poem suggests that the letter is unforgettable and has a lasting impact on language and communication.
The fourth stanza concludes the poem by emphasizing the importance of the letter Z as a final stroke of a pen and the end of words and stories. The poem suggests that the letter Z is forever young and will continue to be a part of language and communication.
Overall, "The Last of the Letters - Z" is a playful and lighthearted poem that uses personification to give the letter Z a distinctive voice and character. The poem emphasizes the unique qualities of the letter and its importance in language and communication. The use of rhyme and playful language creates a sense of fun and whimsy, making the poem a joy to read.
Time to buy a new vehicle , where do I start
The possibilities are endless, the only I know for sure is that alot of money is about to depart
Should I invest in a foreign ride or one from my own country
So many types to choose from,which one might it be
Should I stick to gas, go electric, or maybe a combination of both
Having to decide on a small car good on gas, or perhaps an SUV considering our family's continuing growth
I guess I have to choose a color that would appeal to the whole family
Should I trade the old girl in, or sell it privately
A decision has finally been made, off to the dealership, time to rejoice
With the stroke of a pen and shake of a hand a new vehicle I am about to depart in
As I pull up to my driveway my family awaits, everyone hops in,we go for a spin