Long Strong point Poems
Long Strong point Poems. Below are the most popular long Strong point by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strong point poems by poem length and keyword.
I was working for Jack Daymond, a farmer,
who farmed livestock, potatoes and vines.
I s’pose he had over two hundred cattle.
The spuds and the grapes grew in lines.
Oh gawd! Jack had me slaving ‘til sunset,
keeping his farm spick and span.
Jack kept his eyes on the produce,
while I was his cleaning up man.
And that meant me days were all busy,
spraying and killing off weeds,
grubbing out hundreds of tussocks,
before the darn thing set its seeds.
Sometimes old Jack was a good bloke,
he’d jump in with a fine helping hand,
and we’d spend our day in the paddock,
destroying the weeds on his land.
We were digging out plenty of thistles,
in the north paddock up near the creek,
and we worked like a couple of Trojans
clearing what should have taken a week.
Then a voice loudly filled up the air.
And it was quite menacing too.
A bloke in a suit was striding to us,
declaring his strong point of view.
“Mr. Daymond, I am here to warn you,
that I represent government’s need.
It appears that with government water,
that your quota you far did exceed.”
“I’m here to check your irrigation,
and make sure you’re not being unfair.”
Jack Daymond replied “Do what you must,
but don’t go in that paddock up there.”
The bloke in the suit became snaky,
standing over poor Jack with a leer,
“Don’t tell me where I can or can’t go,
See this card that I am holding here.”
“This card is a reminder to you,
I have authority over your land.
I am allowed to go wherever I wish,
have I made myself clear? Do you understand?'
Jack looked down at the card in his hand,
and knew there’s no sense to rebound,
so Jack nodded politely and joined me,
grubbing thistles from out of the ground.
It appeared that Jack had been beaten,
and in silence he’s taking it hard,
between thistles he gazed to the paddock,
at the bloke who had shown him the card.
But then a grin formed on his face,
we heard yelling like never before,
for the bloke in the suit he was sprinting,
and it’s something we cannot ignore.
Jack beat me on reaching the fence.
With the bloke in the suit in full flight,
and hot in pursuit was Jack’s Jersey bull,
with a look that was all sheer delight.
As the bloke in the suit got beside us,
with the bull behind him by a yard,
Old Jack cupped his hands and yelled out -
“Your card! Your card! Show him your card!”
Who Do You Think I Am?
Do you think I'm disabled?
With known problems, a member of the gang;
Or do you think I'm a nerd,
With my computer always switched on?
Do you think I'm a geek?
With books my greatest pleasure;
Or am I a cross-dresser?
With chinos for composure?
Or maybe you think I'm the fastest footswitch user in the world?
As CALL Scotland of Edinburgh University told me so in 1985;
The footswitch being the device I use to operate my computer:
They did not know I was a home gamer/programmer and used my hands,
Albeit with a keyguard, a metal overlay on top of the keyboard:
Anyway, it’s not how you use your computer that matters -
That’s private to yourself, it’s a transparency;
What matters is what you say on it and what’s your advocacy.
I am, and always have been, an atheist,
Believing that there is no god at all,
Knowing that people matter,
And that good times are gonna call,
If you’re kind and loving, that is,
And give people the respect they’re due,
You have an understanding that comes from knowing,
That relationships are rational too.
When I was 3 or 4,
My parents asked me to carry my own Bible to church,
So I just said no, that I couldn’t physically do that;
We were already 5 minutes late,
But they nonetheless scolded me for insolence and wanting attention,
Called me delinquent, with an obstinate streak:
I just looked at them and quietly said,
“No, I'm an atheist!’: they’d used the word often in denunciation;
But they just scowled at me in retribution.
I found life so hard sometimes,
That I often would think that I was essentially disabled,
But deep down I've always known myself to be an atheist,
Wanting normal things like radio, TV, my friends and books,
Wishing I could relate to another atheist or youth;
So when I left home, I felt loved, respected and appreciated,
Because people accepted my diversity and atheistic ways,
Such that my difference became my strong point and my always.
about
thought
very huge
very huge
very huge
thought
about
guess
thought
ever so streamline
noble, good, caring
esoteric, sound, vast
esoteric, noble, vast
esoteric, big, violet
esoteric, noble, royal
esoteric, good, august
esoteric, royal, sorry
esoteric, noble, humane
yoga rather grand yoga
could rather grand yoga
though rather grand guess
though extremely deep deep!
though extremely deep guess
a young decidedly strong could
quite grand decidedly strong deep! the
streamline force cutting, joyfully quite grand
ever so streamline strong point skittering, joyfully
yoga ever so streamline specialize hopping, joyfully
its streamline forte skittering, joyfully
its streamline force hopping, joyfully
esoteric, noble, sorry, tenacious
esoteric, noble, perennial
6/20/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
I am from the midnight sunset
dreamt on by angels
From a cut in half oak tree
residing on a corner
I am from the machine made earthquake
that rocks the beds
and frightens the children inside their heads
I am from a dance in the rain
in the middle of the road
to a walk in the park
when the sun is shown
I am from the rush
of a thousand eyes
with no hesitation
From an argument
that has already been won
but not ended
I am from a strong point of view
that holds a voice
with a need to be noticed
and not thrown aside by choice
I am from the art of expression
through hand written
and typed word
I am from long letters
both heartfelt and meaningful
sometimes surprising
the ones that seem to be absurd
I am from tears on my keyboard
typing what was impossible to say
as a God wasn't there to hear me pray
I am from lyrics
that not only change
but saved
I am from turning off the lights
turning up the volume
and disappearing
I am from feeling understood
without being known
and being accepted
without being told
I am from insecurities
that just won't go away
From keeping a straight face
so no one can see the pain
I am from big arms
and a fat face
while looking at girls that don't show a trace
I am from looking at mirrors and beginning to cry
because I can't stop the hate
that goes through my mind
I am from a childhood filled with harm
with words and actions
that will never leave my brain's arms
I am from that mom everybody though was great
because they didn't see her yell without restraint
I am from confusion of love and hate
because nobody was there to tell me how to differentiate
I am from the non-existent blood on my hands
as she always told me it was my fault
she was in reprimands
I am from the pain I feel everyday
because when the monster left
it took my mom away
Apologise no more!
I’m sorry if I offended you,
My intention it was not, let’s be clear.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
Tact is not my strong point I fear.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
My colour won’t change, your attitude can.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
Let’s take a look at how this began.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
Though you took my people to enslave.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
If my ancestors were too brave.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
You see this ‘sickness’ is part of me.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
With my vow not to flee.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
By refusing to give up the fight.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
In being just and right.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
That I will not lay down and die.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
In not accepting your oppression, no matter how hard you try.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
My spirit is a gift I’m afraid.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
In God’s reflection I was made.
I’m sorry If I offended you,
I refuse to bow to thee.
I’m if sorry If I offended you,
For you are not My Almighty.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
Your perspective I may not change.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
But counselling I can arrange.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
As it’s clear as day and night.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
For it’s Your perception of black and white.
I’m sorry if I offended you,
Is this apology just a token?
I’m sorry if I offended you,
It’s You not Me who’s broken.
"Howdy Amos”, “Howdy Seth” as Amos points to the empty seat
Next to him on the bench by the Limerick Town Bandstand.
Amos t’aint much for words but he’s a pretty good pointer.
“Whatcha doing, Amos?” “Sittin’”.
Did I say Amos t’aint much for words?
However, it seems that Amos likes to sit on the bench during the shift break
At the Limerick Woolen Mills and wave at passing cars.
Words t'aint Amos’ strong point, but he’s a mighty good waver.
Another thing he’s good at; jumping barrels on the frozen pond
Behind his house in West Newfield.
I’m sure he practices after school when nobody’s around
'Cause he seems too good for a novice barrel jumper.
It’s said he claims the world's record of four barrels;
Something unheard of in these parts of Maine.
I’ve been working my way up to two, myself.
Every now and then he glances at the Town Hall across the street
And I’m sure he’s thinking about Irene and next Saturday’s dance.
Before long, I discover the real reason he’s been sitting there.
It t’aint for waving at cars; he’s been for waiting for Irene to get out of school.
As she waves from across Central Street, he retrieves his bicycle,
The one he’s hidden on the other side of the bandstand
And the last image I have of him is he and Irene coasting
Down Central Street Hill with Irene sitting on the handlebars
And Amos confidently dodging last winter’s potholes
Dreaming of Irene and their first dance next Saturday night.
The ship was rounding the point when the Island appeared.
Fog was covering the coast, an illusion in the blue infinity.
Cardinal points showed signs from North, where Seasons interfered,
As new dimensions laid upon the mast, forming from salt divinity.
Sailors stepped into the shore, while stars looked like a point of light.
Wind-bound hands touched the sand, like a breeze moving the leafs.
No points given, a land unknown unfolding in the middle of the night,
Dropping its treasures on the ground of new visions and motifs.
A point of departure from Darkness to Light, some trembling shifts.
This Island embraced their fears as a breath against the waves.
At this point of no return, they committed to their soul wavy lifts,
As faith formed new colors to draw their eternal, golden caves.
There is no point of vision other. Trees were their echoes of joy.
Cliffs and waterfalls childhood dreams that didn't have to end.
A night's strong point far from the ocean's insistence to dent and to destroy
A new life they needed to share as one, a new promise to defend.
What is the point when you leave from the Island of redemption?
To be condemned with points of conscience faint, to break what is joint?
This last stop, yet missing point, should be from life's deduction the exception,
This diversity you ignore should be your own truth's memory.. Match point.
TREASURE-HUNTER:
I didn't come this far by chance,
Because I didn't have the map based on my stance.
I'm not a pirate hiding to plunder,
Neither am I just a passenger,
Travelling in search for a greener pasture.
I've confided myself in the heavenly King.
The one in whom the world exists.
Trials have laid on me necessities to learn.
And at every minute do I raise my pen,
Jotting down everything for future reference.
I might not be around to jump on defence,
To easily explain this journey at an expense.
The learned will understand this essence,
Which will make my narrative very simple.
I'm a modern day prehistoric man adorned in ancient apron.
Living in the land of civilisation,
My cognition is primitively hooked.
Dwelling in the bossom of integration,
I'm no way conforming to be a crook.
The bellow blows in the midnight,
Causing me to rise and stay over night.
I watch the fireflies in the field,
As they create beautiful spiral motions as they thrill.
I appear with a strong point of hope,
Of which I don't struggle to uphold.
I'm on deliberate routes digging for gold,
So I don't care even if I'm old.
Perhaps, I'm the last survivor,
Searching through ages for survival.
And nothing is really breaking me down,
Since at last I will wear the crown.
Call me the treasure-hunter,
And I will answer.
He made me look at my insecurities with braveness
His hands of abuse could not scare me
So, I kept quiet and only gave him an eye and said a short prayer while his voice went over the roof top as he shouted to impress those who were watching
Little did he know that I survived
I survived terror, trauma and a worst deal of pain
At that very minute nothing could hurt me more than he could
My fear became my strong point!
My laughter at heart was giggles having a deep eye interaction conversation with a monster
His hormones were not at a steadiness but in rage
His voice was more certain than the loud music I used to be played and all my myth became my truth
At that moment he became a published book of bad errors and mistakes with a poor grammar
This was so rare to me that his desirable rage was filled with hurt and that it could be academically awarded a medal for a movie displaying right in front of my eyes
A rare me was more certain than desirable to see nakedly how the devil looks in soul
He was terror, trauma and a great deal of pain but I could not break but survive
Poet
Masego Nkuna
Here I am nearly reached three score and ten
life has passed on through my years
it's been eventful that's certain for sure
but have survived it with no tears
Nerves have ruled most of my life
been a battle but won some of them
strangers approaching makes you frizz
but learn to adapt so feel a gem
So often felt not the real thing
not quite the normal guy such a tongue
words were never my strong point
struggle was my word even when I was young
But you adapt finding strength to win
despite the struggles, you get there somehow
been always in a job for worked 44 years
now enjoy retirement fully free now
Standing where I am in truth
pleased to have reached this place
looking back seeing God's hand on me
feel privileged to achieve this at base
( A look back on life from today's standpoint)