Long Surgery Poems
Long Surgery Poems. Below are the most popular long Surgery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surgery poems by poem length and keyword.
A woman one day had a total makeover
she completely altered her body and face
But only one week after all the surgery she had
she found herself standing before God's pearly gates
She said Lord, "what's going on around here
You told me I had twenty more years?"
The Lord replied," I didn't even recognize you
and that could be the reason why you are now here"
What is the ultimate makeover? What is it that we feel we must change?
What are we really reaching for? What do we hope to attain?
Botox injections, breast augmentations, changes that require a surgical team
We sometimes take an extreme approach to obtain the American dream
Pimped out, tricked out the ultimate fantasy car
But without God in your life you won't get very far
The ultimate makeover what you really need in your life
Is to accept as your Savior the Lord Jesus Christ
We all have a God shaped hole in our hearts that only He can fulfill
And no makeover of your fleshly self can completely satisfy that bill
To live your life to the fullest extent you must makeover your inner being
For your soul is the essence of who you are the core that God will be seeing
Neither bulking up nor becoming slim and trim will to God make much of a difference
It's the grace, peace and serenity inside you that will change your outward appearance
So confess that Jesus is your Lord and Savior
and believe His Father raised Him from the dead
For your faith in the Lord Christ should not occur only inside your head
It's not just the consciousness of your thoughts It's how your soul accepts God
So drink of the blood of the new covenant of Christ a makeover transforming your heart
For true belief involves your whole being it's not just cerebral and intellectual perceptions
It's the heart , mind and Spirit of God that should be your personal inceptions
The ultimate makeover the ultimate transformation
Will occur when you accept Jesus Christ's resurrection and salvation
So be recreated with a clean heart renewed and born again
the ultimate makeover that comes from within
But if you continue to hold sin in your heart there's not much that God can do
And you'll have a harder time finding forgivingness if your heart's not contrite and true
So ask the Lord for peace and grace and let the Holy Spirit inside you take over
Be revived, renewed and born again the ultimate Godly makeover
The fear
In here ..
The chair
"Don't care "..
Sore gum
Lip numb..
" MUST DRILL
THEN FILL " ..
" Less speed
I'll bleed " ..
Preserve
Your nerve ..
"I've bled"
Jaw dead ..
" RINSE PLEASE"
Weak knees ..
The bill
Plus pill ..
Can't eat
No teeth ..
Unchewed
Soft food ..
Can't talk
Slow walk
Perchance
Soiled pants ?..
Mistake
Toothache !!.....
footle-note ..
The author would like to confirm that no deaths occured , during the creation of this piece. All
suffering was kept to a minimum,as the surgery was sound-proofed .Pain and suffering ,
caused to waiting patients , was due to being forced to read 3yr old mags. Seemingly the
news was less dire back then.All enamel&blood stained swabs were dumped in the
appropriate utensils,as per Geneva Convention(section ix, site xxxiv).The cleansing of soiled
underwear took place ,under supervision, with enviroment friendly detrgents & all offending
materials disposed of , in accordance with the KyotoAgreement(section mlx11).
Must dash !! , as I have to visit that other sadist, the vet ,with our cat.He is due for the snips!
( the cat , not the vet ).. Here Tom..Pshhhwshhh ..
Should Be Done
If you want to have much fun
Here is what should be done
If you data used is empirical
Write some sounding satirical.
So much for my rhyming. Now
for my formidable blank verse
format.
What should Democratic party do.
They should start having a daily
presentation of negative Trump
ads every day of his existence
while he is in the White House.
Show the Gold Star Family,
handicapped person made fun of
and women grabbed by crotch
as examples of what I mean.
Trump doesn't mind tweeting
out negative comments about
anyone else. He needs to start
receiving some of his own medicine.
What you give out is what you
are supposed to receive back.
If you criticize, condemn and
complain, you should receive
the very same thing in return.
His favorability rating for being
President is at an all time low.
He deserves it and has done
exactly everything to earn it.
As usual, America will have to
suffer from all of his stupidity.
He thinks that all he has to do
is waving his magic wand and
every thing will fit in place in
his staff and support system.
Was it Martin Luther King who
said only fools dream on not
taking any action. Trump is
truly a man of action riling
up everyone.
God is supposed to be saving
the Queen and our new President.
Sure hope we can trust Him to save
the rest of America as well. Some
may be saving for a rainy day but
what about the good ones we all
prefer to have? They may have
disappeared with Trump and are
beyond all recognition. We sure
do hope not How about you?
Can you no longer find any of
them either. Search to your
heart's content> You have
Trump supporters to thank for
putting him to office. Don't
blame me for the pit we are
about to fall into. I would
not have hired a medic to
do my open heart surgery.
That is what you did when
you elected Trump. In America,
we have the freedom to express
our own opinions regardless of
what criticism we may receive.
As far as I am concerned, the
same thing also applies to
Poetry Soup. We have a lot
of great poets who currently
exist within Poetry Soup. My
last thing I have to say and
write is, "God Bless You'll."
Sorry my Southern accent
got in the way.
James Serious Mysterious and
also Thesarious Hilarious Horn
as applicable depending on the
occasion I am writing poem about.
I was a marvelous ophthalmologist, impacting how others saw this world,
As tomorrow one day sees yesterday, on lanes where hued leaves swirled.
I corrected hazy, crazy vision problems, with eyeglasses and with surgery;
Like a second look, evoked by raspberry rose, to verify beauty's certainty.
I also did frequent research, on hidden causes and cures for eye disease;
Just as reasons for rainbows and stardust, lay hidden in nature mysteries.
I had once studied cosmetology, and I loved the art of applying makeup;
And I never left home without it, like opening red tulip, at sunrise wakeup.
Friends fascinated like fire opals, bringing fetching colors into a vibrant life;
And we relished flaming, flamboyant Fridays, under maroon skies of strife.
Flavorful fruits were fanatically ripening, when feel-good family visited me.
Fiery red raspberries and fat blueberries, fell beneath puff clouds, so pretty.
I lived in the house of sudden mists, in oranges, pinks, purple and scarlet,
Where any day could be right for lovely visions, before the sky grew starlit.
Snap peas and sweet potatoes grew in the gardens, along my sunny street,
In days of searing, scarlet sun salutes, and gold hours of pause and repeat.
Nearby noon gave nectarine notice, as neighborly neighbors came visiting,
When green nature bore a heatwave, like the nesting woodpecker, knocking.
Pink fairy wings bloomed fantasy gardens, as the yellow tiger lilies roared;
And the dragon lulus breathed fire, like ardor cooling for one, once adored.
Brain cacti meditated summer greenery, whilst toad lilies attracted insects;
And pink bottlebrushes swept away sad blues, scrubbing aside dour defects.
I was attending a Fourth of July cook out, hosted by the fondest of families;
But the makeup I'd ordered was late, forcing me to put aside pure vanities!
By the time I left for the plum, pleasant party, I was feeling oddly liberated;
And family and friends did not notice my lack, like stars, clouds obliterated.
I had a lovely time that rosy day, when martins sang like the Fourth of July,
Amidst mauve festivity and lemon sunshine, and bellflowers ringing nearby!
The lesson I learned that vivid day, is to glam up or not, according to mood,
For people are still loveable either way, like faint dawn moon, briefly viewed.
Mother always tried to make precious moments through out our lives.
Where if someone needed a smile, or just to say wow.
We could remember the poclein precious moments we shared with family and, friends, and that is how this began.
As she slept I knew she was fighting for her life.
With her armor already on she prepared for battle.
Mother, can you hear me as I read to you, fighting along side of you?
Mother, can you hear her singing to you fighting along side?
Mother, can you feel her touch as she tries to be the strongest because she is your first born still fighting along side of you silently.
Honey, daddy says as he stay up watching you, fighting along side of you as you slept fighting for your life.
Mother, could you feel the silent prayers from your family and friends fighting along side of you.
The battle is over!
Now she is awake, but the war still goes on.
Still, not completely with us, mother continues to fight infections, pain medication and much more to get back to us.
Now she is back!
Fully recovered from her surgery, and this is what she had to say.
"My life was not in my hands". Mother said.
I could feel my body spliting into two and it was nothing I could do.
I was screaming for my loved ones with no avail.
They could not hear my voice, or so it seemed.
I was dead, alone, wishing for one more moment with them.
Just to let them know how much I loved them.
I knew I was in the valley of the shadow of death, fighting for my life because I knew how hard my family was fighting along side me.
Now!
Thinking back on that war, I can not do anything else but lift my hands up because...
I won. We won.
Even though I do not know what lies ahead of me, I will lift my voice to the lord and give him thanks because I was dead and now I am alive.
With all his love to share with others.
Dedicated to my mother
with all our love
*To seek divine mercy in the aftermath of a major coronary surgery I underwent towards the end of last month.
Placed 9th in:
No. 1255 New Poem Only Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Brian Strand
A Simple Prayer*
O supreme Lord, give me the strength
To bear with fortitude my pain,
Bestow upon me the courage
To meet without groan any strain.
O mighty Lord, let your mercy
And the bright aura of your grace
Heal the core of my surgery
And restore the shine of my health.
Mightiest among the mighty
And the universe sole guardian,
From the depth of my heart I pray
That you do lighten my burden.
My whole life I have been chanting
Hymns of your wonderful glories,
My whole life I have been prizing
Your name in the crest of my heart.
For ever I have kept my mind
Free of evil thoughts for all men,
Besought peace for the entire world
And treated all humans as friends.
For ever I have spent my life
In extending a helping hand
To whoever dipped in a strife
And to all folks in dire needs.
Gracious Lord, if deep suffering
Is by You Inscribed in my fate,
Let me with pleasure digest it,
Let me of such stern stuff be made.
Merciful Lord, I seek Your grace
To ever cleanse my inner soul
Of any remnants of low taste
That I am worth to be Your child.
In a world where beauty's often measured and defined,
A girl at twenty, had dreams intertwined,
She sought about change, a shape to embrace,
But little did she know, it would alter her grace.
Every glance in the mirror, she’d sigh,
She longed for the curves, the world defined.
Then came the implants, a promise of light,
A chance to feel whole, to finally feel right,
But the joy was fleeting, as symptoms arose, Beneath the surface of beautiful flesh, her whole body ached.
Her headaches and pains made life hard to take. Suicide sometimes seemed the easiest escape.
All the strange illnesses that whispered in her ears loved to perform in the shadows of her fears
With a weak immune system and pains so severe shed scream "Let me just die! "to the heavens about but it wasn't her time, she couldn't give up.
She wore her struggles like a cloak made of fear,
Each day a battle, each moment unclear.
Years rolled on, twenty-seven in tow,
With every new ache, her spirit felt low,
Yet deep in her heart, a flicker remained,
A hope for a future, unchained and unfeigned.
She scheduled the surgery, her heart in a twist,
What would she look like? Would she cease to exist?
The implants, her armor, her identity’s thread,
But the thought of release filled her heart with dread.
With courage she stepped into the bright, sterile room,
A leap into freedom, away from the gloom,
As the surgeon worked gently, she felt a release,
A shedding of burdens, a whisper of peace.
And when she emerged, a new dawn in her eyes,
The reflection before her, a beautiful surprise,
No longer defined by the weight she had borne,
She blossomed like flowers, anew she was born.
With each passing day, her health found its way,
The headaches subsided, the aches turned to play,
A vibrant young woman, with laughter and light,
No longer a shadow, she danced into night.
Her journey was long, but the lessons were clear,
True beauty is found when we shed all our fear,
In the mirror she saw not just curves, but her soul,
A radiant spirit, finally whole.
So here’s to the girl who dared to be free,
To embrace her own self, to finally see,
That beauty’s not measured by what’s on the skin,
But the strength of the heart, and the joy found within.
I dress with less for my body flouncing
My titties jiggle and my ass is bouncing
I prance around to ring your bell
And call myself an Instagram “model”
I make up my face and pout my lips
I put on the music and shake my hips
I do up my hair with lots of gel
Pretty me, your favorite Instagram “model”
I tease to milk men of their hard-earned money
You stroke yourself instead of me, honey
I’m here to make your life less dull
That’s the charm of an Instagram “model”
They call me an e-thot, fishing for a “like”
That Ho Over There all girlfriends dislike
‘Cuz I record these videos of my body to sell
Look at me, I am an Instagram “model”
Some women before me took to the street
They marched and protested, refusing defeat
They burned their bras with their rebel yell
Nevertheless, I became an Instagram “model”
Please hit “like” as a natural courtesy
The more I get brings me closer to surgery
So I can flaunt again, making my head swell
In excess for me, an Instagram “model”
Lonely boy, did I satisfy your desire?
If not, I can take off more attire
I’ll entice all of you so very well
For I am the ultimate Instagram “model”
This is what has become of me
Since my daddy paid no attention, you see
All he did was shout and yell
Propelling me to be an Instagram “model”
Your best relationship inevitably ends
When your girl saw your likes on “With Friends”
Social media’s suggestions often tell
That you adore me, an Instagram “model”
I’m blamed for all the love that you lost
My curves seduced you at a high cost
You lost your love and then hit the bottle
All because of me, an Instagram “model”
This is only a breeding ground for me
Up next on Only Fans is where I’ll be
Attention seeking as you cuddle your cell
‘Cuz you can’t touch an Instagram “model”
Deep down the many problems I face
Are hidden well in teddies and lace
But the emotions I hold are worse than hell
Since I am an insecure Instagram “model”
After you peel off all of the layers
And strip away all of the players
I’m just a little girl who desperately fell
Into the trap of being an Instagram “model”
When my Life Changed
In midst of my journey of life
Starkly I was shattered by fate
With the razor-sharp blade of knife,
Harshly hurled in hands of Hades.
After two long-stretched surgeries
Within the short span of ten days
For curled intestines, with worry
And acute pains, supine I lay;
For months I stayed gazing at sky
Seeking divine grace and mercy,
To shine strength on me to stand high
And rain on me His clemency.
Ever since my life changed for good:
No more my force I could recoup
No more taste of fast fatty foods,
But just the flavour of light soups;
No more the tang of sweetish treats
No more savour of salty feasts,
Gone were days of strolling on streets
With acute pains, the body fleeced;
Days turned into darkness of nights
Amidst the wrath of wild winters,
Despite the rays of sunshine bright
Cold were days of sparkling summers.
On hindsight, the change in my life
Pitched me closer up to the sky
With flame of faith lighting my strife,
Gems of hope shining in my eyes;
Was the change ways of divine will
To field me close to the sublime,
Or payment of debt with a chill,
Only He can disclose to Time.
If you are now reading this note
I am hoping you’ll understand,
I didn’t mean for any of this,
was trying to be a good man.
All that I was trying to do
was support my only son, Dan.
It started when he was eleven,
and declared to all that he was ‘trans.’
I’ve always been a progressive,
and though the news struck me at first,
I wanted to do right by my son,
wanted to lighten the mental hurt,
to be stuck in the wrong body…
I did not know what would be worse.
He would need help to transition,
so we began a doctor search.
Now we lived in small town Kansas,
it’s not known for progressive ways,
most doctors would not help us out,
wouldn’t give us the time of day.
We had to go to Topeka,
where a man heard what we had to say,
a doctor who would help us out,
as long as we were willing to pay.
We started with hormone blockers,
to hold off the male puberty,
that was followed by estrogen,
he grew out his hair to look pretty.
At first Dan seemed much better off,
for several months looked quite happy,
though didn’t like having to wait
whole year for the surgery.
But the day came, and the day went,
and then Dan’s transition was complete,
he now called himself Daniella
to any people he might meet.
Soon enough the whispers went ’round
to all the people on the street,
but I cared not for their ‘old’ views,
Daniella they would not defeat.
My parents stopped talking to me,
said allowing this was insane,
to cut up a child’s body
who had an undeveloped brain.
They said it was child abuse,
his future nothing but pain,
and what would happen if he grew
and came to regret this drastic change?
I called them out as ‘filthy transphobes,’
said they had hateful points of view.
My father just gave me a sneer,
and said, “Your son’s life is screwed.”
Of course then I just doubled down,
and said, “I have no use for you.”
I haven’t talked to them since then,
I so believed my words were true…
For the next few years things went well,
just Danielle, me, and my wife,
and my son seemed to adapt well
to the choice he had made in life.
But about the time he turned fifteen
something about him didn’t seem right,
one night I found hm in his room
Staring dolefully at a knife.
CONTINUES IN PART II.