Long Substituted Poems
Long Substituted Poems. Below are the most popular long Substituted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Substituted poems by poem length and keyword.
The sun cries for us, its heat fades away
snowflakes sprinkle round its orbit, yet go unmelted
it feels like evening, but its yet noon
time never changes its pace but now runs from a rifle
daylight sadly pretends, just to soften night's mockery.
Blood has substituted the rains
death has defined our borders
humanity is rendered homeless
and politics, given the borrowed authority of a landlord.
Life is cheaper than wine
tribal dominance exhibited in a show glass
for love to become an expired product.
Unity is deprived of its oxygen
from a gang of beasts, spare headed by religion.
Genocide celebrated, killers protected
understanding and cooperation, required from the affected
silence and denial, demanded from the afflicted
marginalization defended and grievances rejected.
The edge of the cutlass strikes harder than racism
Indigenes in their own homes hit worse than xenophobia
hope is lost, drowned in the sea of Impunity
faith is locked up in a cage underneath evil's valley
decades of cries to the heavens
the tears flow down to meet more affliction.
The sun rises, but presents in dark red
setting hours later to the notice of no one
a people bounded on falsehood
a large home of smaller fenced habitations
as everyone needs protection from everyone
and where space becomes too small for the stars;
but when distinguished into different galaxies,
it beams brighter to be a better decoration.
An unbearable course too small for the river to flow
makes nature justify its split into tributaries.
Enemies can no longer be in one home,
so live and let's leave, or leave and let's live
is the only policy left for us all
and the survival anthem for this beautiful garden
no more suitable for community germination.
An abecedarian Australian animal activist
Bagged bodacious big bucks
Caustically criticizing crocodiles,
Driving darling dragons
Essentially extinct. Eschewing
Fact, fabricating fanciful fiction,
Grifting gloriously,
He haughtily held hostage
Important, instructive information,
Juxtaposed jaundiced, junk
Kangaroo kills,
Leveling large lizard libel,
Manufacturing marsupial misinformation malevolently.
On other ominous occasions,
Preferring pernicious propaganda,
Quickly, querulously, quashed
Real, rational reports, rather,
Substituted several substantially
Tarnished technical travesties,
Undermining unified understanding.
Very vociferously, viciously
Wrote works without warrant,
Xenophobic xenotypic
yarns, yammering yellow-bellied yawps,
Zombie-like, zealously.
What Is Christmas by Robert Allison Dec. 1986
Christmas is the time
When the jingle bells rhyme.
Boys say Christmas is fun
When they get a new toy gun. **
Girls say Christmas is a ball,
When they get a brand new doll. **
Boys and girls say "Yay"
To a fun ride in a sleigh.
Most teens would love a new computer,
And most women would love figurines made of pewter.
Now don't forget the dad's
Cause they love the latest fads.
Well all this makes a Christmas nice,
But when going to a party - don't slip on the ice!
Author's Note : This poem was the very first one that
I created during my senior year at high school, before
Christmas break. It was a private (Christian) school and our
English teacher asked us to write a couple paragraphs (or a poem)
about what Christmas meant to us. I didn't know whether to
write about the worldly side or the religious side of Christmas,
and I had never wrote a poem before. By the time class
was over with, I had created the short poem above.
** In the original version - I had substituted "new toy gun"
with "Rambo gun", and also substituted "brand new doll"
with "Barbie doll". These two brand names were the
current "craze" but I later substituted the words - due to
all the lawsuits over copyright infringement at that time.
Anyways, enough rambling from me. Hope you enjoyed !
Michael was run over by a bus when he was just fifteen,
He played football for Everton’s junior or youth squad,
But suffered an acquired brain injury, a fractured skull,
Which gave him mild Cerebral Palsy in his body, quad.
Everton suggested to him he try their disabled team:
“To be honest, I was a bit skeptical. I didn't class myself
as disabled. I'd just had an accident, that's all…I was
surprised by the high standard. [It was a first class shelf].
These guys were good. The standard was [much] higher
than I'd previously played…I knew I would have to work
hard to get in the squad and it felt good having something
to work towards.” Michael says disability is mental work.
As a young man Michael played alongside Wayne Rooney,
Because he comes from Liverpool and loves Liverpool.
He was born on the 28th day of July in the year of 1987,
And has represented GB for 11 years in 7-a-side football.
In 2011 he was the top scorer in the CPISRA World Cup,
The tournament for footballers with fine Cerebral Palsy,
Which was held in that year in Holland, the Netherlands,
And he won the Golden Boot award for his cool dexterity.
He played in Beijing, his second Paralympics was London,
Where he was substituted for the captain, he wore the band,
In Rio grand Michael scored GB’s only goal in the 35th min
Of their last game, which ended them in 5th place, 5th stand.
(1)
Strophe
Slowly and slowly fly the mighty feathers:
the uncanny wrath bearer, the poacher's prey,
the bald bizzare stigmatic cryptic creature, the ecology's majestic role player;
the curtain raiser of ecosystem's air purifier.
Alas! Your iconographic role is omitted,
you, the saviour of the mortal race
from the contagious diseases.
Astounded! How you uncontaminated dear environment.
Your poaching has taken away
the soul of the balanced ecosystem;
crucial is saviour friend's presence, on the verge of extinction plight might have horrid ripple effect!
(2)
Antistrophe
Irony! The friend's void can't be substituted by mere replicas of sustainable development;
the diminishing existence will
drastically affect the local food webs!
How alluring to have a glimpse
of the hunch and tuck of the bird's head in the cold,
flapping and fluttering the wings,
stretching the neck in the heat!
You, remain aloft for hours,
soars gracefully on long broad wings;
with dazzling sharp eyes
from the highlands to pick the carrion!
(3)
Epode
Your iconographic presence is being honoured by the myths, legends, fables of civilizations from ages.
High time to contemplate, to introspect,
to jump into the ecosystem's integral bandwagon:
as pivotal to rescue and redeem the bird's friendly endangered existence!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
This is now my unofficial Poetry Soup Blog.
I know you're only supposed to post poetry here,
but as far as I can tell,
I can blog here as well
as long as my blog rhymes poetically to the reader's ear.
So check back here now and then occasionally.
I may have announcements to share for all of you to read,
but I'll post these blog announcements poetically.
That should justify my posting a Soup Blog
in a space that is most strictly reserved to log
all kinds of styles of all kinds of poetry.
If I have any new news that needs to be released
I'll leave this web address posted on my last posted poetry piece.
**********************************************************************
*******
12/03/ 2009 -
I have deleted the following pieces from my postings.
Thank You Bird Of Prey & A Pale Male Tale.
I also have revised a couple of postings.
Pale Male's First Love & In Loving Memory Of Pale Male.
With both of those pieces I've eliminated the entire text
and substituted all of the text with a single web address.
Feel free to give them both a quick look see.
Do you think this is a good idea?
Your opinion matters to me.
In Loving Memory Of Pale Male> Site Under Construction
Pale Male's First Love> Site Under Construction
**********************************************************************
12/12/2009 -
This Is Not My Poem (Author Unknown) Parts 1 & 2
will be deleted at the beginning of the New Year
so you might want to give it one last view.
It's a special Holiday poem that you may want to read.
I posted it with the hope that a fellow Souper might know the author's identity.
I know the author's name now, thanks to one Mr A. W. Nutter, aka Anthony.
The author's name is Michael Marks. I'll leave his web page address before I leave
so that fellow Soupers who join in the new year can also give him a read.
Michael Mark's "A Soldier's Christmas"
http://www.michaelmarks.com/asoldierschristm.html
Here's the web address also for Mr Nutter's Poetry, aka Anthony's Poetry.
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=14459
This Is Not My Poem (Author Unknown)
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=185645
**********************************************************************
To Continue Go To:
My Poetry Soup Blog, Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=192344
He had a conversation with an angel…he was seated by a stream…when he noticed she was next to him…then again he thought…it could have been a dream.
“I see you are shouldered with sadness.” The angel said, “And this sadness carries great weight.”
He nodded, “I don’t understand how a world created out of love can be filled with so much hate.”
“It is difficult to understand,” the angel said, “how love and hate grow from the same seed…when nurtured with love it grows into a flower…when raised in hate…it grows into a weed.”
“And though that seed is fragile it is also resilient…for everyone has it within their power to turn any flower into a weed…and any weed into a flower.”
“I imagine what is making you sad what tends to make your world seem sour…
Is how easy it is to turn a flower into a weed…but how difficult to turn a weed into a flower…
“But it can be done…begin by looking around you…start now…don’t hesitate and you’ll be pleasantly surprised…how you’ll see more love than hate.”
And as you look around you’ll see…when it’s love each seed consumes…
or when love is substituted for hate…how another flower blooms.
Remember love and hate speak different languages…but the more you concentrate
…the more words of love you speak…the less words you’ll have for hate.
And you must believe…as I believe…it’s why I came to you today…
to remind you…with your help…and with the help of others…love will find a way.
She left him smiling…thinking about her words…still seated by the stream…
still wondering if what he just experienced was real…or if it was a dream…
No matter he thought to himself…whether a dream or an angel sent from above
It was time to do his part…for there are many seeds in need of love.
The substitute teacher comes in all grins, giggles, and smiles.
Her resume’ runs on for a thousand and six hundred miles.
She is perky and ready, and thinks it is going to be fun.
By noon she’s ready to call it quits we even saw one run.
Her hair is all crisp and clean when she enters our school.
She thinks she knows what we are about, and she is ready to rule.
The children do not know her, nor do they care to ever learn.
They want their real teacher, they are quick to show and discern.
I watch these subs get sick and make glorious excuses galore.
Many are screaming by two o’clock, some are out of the door.
The brave ones who usually stay the entire day here,
Are the ones who were teaching for twenty one or so years.
They lay down their rules, and the children finally obey.
These diehard seasoned ones usually last ‘til the end of the day.
Last year at the end of the year we were exceedingly sad,
To see five retire, the best crazy we had ever had.
They were in their eighties and nineties and they knew how to rule.
They were consistent, and fair, even though some did sort of drool.
A few fell asleep at their regular eleven o’clock nap time,
But we did not care, as they continued to show up, and always on time.
I was a sub, and I told them not music, but they begged me at Lake Sand.
I nearly walked out when I found I had to teach choir, guitar and band.
I substituted in kindergarten once, and it was my worst job.
Three children walked out, and two others did wail, whine and sob.
A substitute teacher should earn loads of respect.
For showing up twice, and not going for an incorrigible child’s neck.
We do not have to listen to you, the ornery, disobedient children say.
You are not our teacher, not realizing she is, until the end of the day.
THAT OLD CROWN
OF THORNS HE WORE for ME
That crown of thorns
Set upon His head
Needled poke, pricked, bloodshed
Though the crown of thorn
Was mocked
Replace His Kingdom Crown
Evil Humanity thought
Instilled with my God
So yet He's lives for me
He His grace, substituted
Heart and Head space
O' The Crown of Thorns
my Amazing Grace
Poignant and powerful
Reflection on the symbolism
of the crown of thorns
Sense of reverence, gratitude, and awe, reminding us
of the profound sacrifice and love that of Jesus Christ Father demonstrated through His suffering and death on the cross.
Father inspire us to contemplate the true meaning of sacrifice, love, and redemption in our own lives
Father we reflect on the significance of the crown of thorns and its connection to Jesus Christ's sacrifice and redemption.
We need a deeper sense of gratitude for the love and grace that Jesus Christ demonstrated through His suffering and death on the cross.
- Jesus' sacrifice is a powerful reminder of God's love and redemption for humanity.
4/14/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025
- *John 3:16*: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."
- *Romans 5:8*: "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
- *1 Peter 2:24*: "He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed."
He was now sovereign of the land of Israel.
Following in his father David’s steps, he ruled well.
This land had never displayed so much prosperity.
No king would ever be more powerful and wealthy.
The Jerusalem palace now showed great opulence.
However, he employed great wisdom and providence.
David said, “Walk in God’s ways and obey each decree,
Then He shall in turn keep the promise He made to me.
If your descendents adhere to My commandments well,
someone will always sit on the throne of Israel.”
Solomon kept his word as his father lay dying,
to be forever faithful to God and discerning.
He must be prosperous in every undertaking,
diligence and integrity never forsaking.
The Lord gave discernment, great knowledge, and keen insight.
God spoke to Solomon in a dream he had one night.
On one day, two prostitutes appeared before the king.
These women presented issues both were disputing.
They lived together in a brothel in the city.
Each was ill favored, and neither deserved his pity.
These women both claimed to be the mother of a son.
They declared victimization by the other one.
The first woman said, “Her baby is the one that’s dead,
she rolled over in her sleep, and covered her son’s head.
I discovered that morning when I would nurse my son,
she took my baby and substituted her dead one.”
The next woman said, “No, do not believe such a thing!
My son is alive! Her baby is dead! She’s lying!”
The other one cried, “That one is mine, she’s deceiving!
How could someone do such an evil deed, mighty king?”
Solomon evaluated each testimony.
He made this decision on hearing each woman’s plea:
“Bring me a sword; I shall divide this baby in two.
There shall be two halves of this child for each of you.”
The second woman said, “Yes king, do it! That sounds good!
Cut that thing in two. If I can’t have him, no one should!”
The first one yelled, “Don’t kill him! Please don’t do such a thing!
Give the baby to her and spare his life, my great king!”
Solomon turned to the first woman and said to her:
“Here woman, take the child, you are the true mother.
You have shown compassion here. There can be no other!”
This was just one example of Solomon’s wisdom.
There would never be a greater man in this kingdom.