Long Treatment Poems
Long Treatment Poems. Below are the most popular long Treatment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Treatment poems by poem length and keyword.
If i allow a mother to steal food, in order to feed her babies. Does that make me
an angel or criminal? How do we as people not take responsibilty to change our
own destiny?
For justice is the right of everyone!
If i don't take the time to teach this mother to stand, to be self reliant, to have faith,
to face her fears. If i don't teach her compassion and self respect. Does that
make me part of the problem or the solution?
For any injustice hurts everyone!
If i don't register to vote because i believe the system is broke. How then can i sit
on this mother's jury, with 11 others to deceide if she committed a crime?
For justice is the right of everyone!
If i allow the truth to be silenced by her economics or her up bringing. Am I giving
her an excuse to keep on?
For any injustice hurts everyone!
If i check hispanic as my race because my other choices demand that i deny my
mother. Does that mean that i disrespect my own people?Does that mean i don't
believer in Dr. King's dream?
For justice is the right of everyone!
If i allow the disrespect of another's faith, from one coming of my own. Does that
mean I have no faith in my own beliefs?
For any injustice hurts everyone!
If i adopt a child from a a foreign country. Does that make me heartless to the
needs of the here?
For justice is the right of everyone!
If am a solider supporting my family and I must go to war. Does that mean I
support the reasons behind the war?
For any injustice hurts everyone!
If am a hard working law abiding citixen . Does that mean that it is none of my
concern how the system punishes criminals of differnt races?
For justice is the right of everyone!
If my child is on life support and my insurance won't cover no more treatment .
Who then has the right to deceide if my child lives or dies?
For any injustice hurts everyone!
If i justify my wrong doings with excuses of what was done to me and my people.
Will you tell me what that makes me?
For justice is the right of everyone!
Justice is everyone's freedom to think, feel, love, have no limits in what one can
do. Justice is to receive the respect of everyone. Not to be judged for sex,race or
faith. To have equal opportunities for you and I!
To quote Dr. King's words, " Injustice anywhere threatens justice everywhere!"
end quote.
For any injustice hurts everyone!
Form:
In regard to human's such abject abyss and absurdity, we can't help questioning: can human still be indulgent in the virulent vainglory having shaped their pretentious and dangerous preconception of a human-centered and human-dominated cosmos? can human waywardly go on with their ecologic vandalism having already triggered the macrocosmic nature's wrath and punishment? In fact, all their perverted precepts and practices have spoilt or to a large extent countervailed the hard-earned results of their positive efforts. ( e.g. vaccine development, treatment of the infected)
As can be seen more often than not: Overloaded hospital wards and overwrought medical workers are outflanked by waves of overwhelming epidemic peaks, and the process of vaccination popularization outpaced by the viruses' variation and proliferation. Indeed, human's arrogance, ignorance and particularly conscience absence have estranged them from one informative sense: The best remedy is the due respect for the macrocosmic nature that nurtures the entire universe and the due reverence for her sovereign system that really dominates every being and everything living or working inside her domain; The best vaccine is the virtue of taking all harmless lives kindly and taking kindly to the nature's heartfelt call for every bio-community member's benign ecofriendly behavior.
Having ironed out the aforesaid reasoning and arguments and having made clear our firm attitude and stance, we hereby urge Spanish, Dutch butchers and especially the Dane banes:
Stop your criminal and cruel cull without delay, do not engage any more in any activity that may bring us extinction, mass toll and physical or psychological harm, let us resume enjoying our old habitat safe and calm.
We also want to extend our exhortation to all of the human being: Make a thorough stock-taking of the circumstances of correlated infection-prone species and overall epidemic aspect before renouncing your previous evil ways and recommitting to building a livable eco-environment and lovable bio-community. Only after the strict imposition of precautionary disciplines upon your daily behavior, would there be a promising future of fine faith and fair fortune for every existent being under the sun, of course including yourselves; In the bargain, would come genuinely effective epidemic-controlling & prevention mechanisms for yourselves.
In the dark she is waiting, 200 kilos of velvet
separating one world from the other.
It was art to her, she was under no pretence,
she was an instrument, and she made the other instruments merge in a delicious unprecedented harmony.
A poet, a warrior, a lover, a sinner. She has tasted the divine and the melodramatic, to capture moments, photographs, for the use of summoning emotion and reality.
She had been hurt and she had hurt, she had walked towards hell and ran away from heaven. Beginning as a muse and then enslaving the musicians one by one with her whispy and sultry tones.
An electric keyboard breaks the mumbling, vibrato, a pause, a cheer. The drape rises and she peers from the darkness, masked by shadow to the floodlit mass in front.
The drums are brushed gently as the crowd softens to the figure emerging from the dark. Not knowing if they were permitted to break the spell or join it, the crowd pay their respect with silence.
You can almost see the phantoms she has witnessed being beckoned into her. Short linear smoky essences, touching her then being pulled inside. She saunters slowly towards the mic, eyes closed, and with both hands it becomes a sceptre. This will be a heartfelt song again.
She inhales, her belly fills, and she breathes life into the mic. Her tones slice through the thick air, soft yet with such projection and feel. The crowd can not contain themselves and let out a cheer as their eyes fill. She masterfully picks up her bass, as if resurrecting a lost love, and it sings for her.
Her hair is gone now, most of the crowd know why and they want to cry. But she holds them, captivated, and hypnotises a smile into them. They sway to her, some hold their chests as if covering some hole for fear of their hearts falling out.
This will be the last time we will feel her grace. But she will be summoned herself. The band know this. She sits, the treatment has taken it out of her. But her voice never falters. That chair will be kept alongside the drummer that loved her. Her bass will be his kryptonite. But he will keep it close anyway.
The curtain will not fall tonight, it shall remain at half mast. She will bow and we will fall at her mercy one last time. In homage, and respect. She will leave but she will never be forgot. She has trained herself into them, and she will always be singing.
"THE BIRD CANNOT FLY"
No matter how hard he flaps his wings body won’t lift,
is it obesity or small wings?
He shouldn’t devour the food mother
fed him but do some exercise for flying,
worse yet,
he pecked on and bit siblings
in order to snatch all the food
the mother brought back causing them all to die;
his gluttonous appetite and cruel treatment made
him incapable of lifting his body in the air;
if a bird cannot fly, he is not a bird anymore
then, where to go and what to become to fly in the air.
"THE BIRD LOST SONG"
Although he had a beautiful voice
he drank sweet wines to have a more beautiful voice,
he smoked marijuana to have a more voluminous voice;
blinded by brilliant stage lights and fancy spots,
intoxicated from the shouts of fans, he ruined himself
in the tremendous popularity,
his fame made him arrogant, he fell into narcissism,
he jumped up and down on the stage and soared in the air
to tear down the floodlights hanging from the ceiling,
foolish enough to think that his feathers are brighter
more luminous than the floodlights; flapping his glittering wings,
he fell from the ceiling and was sucked into a bottomless pit.
"THE BIRD WITHOUT FEATHERS"
The starlight reflecting on a treetop is so beautiful
though he knew he couldn’t fly anymore, he stretched
open his old and infirm wings and flapped, looking at the sky,
to soar in the air; alas, Zeus’s thunderbolt struck him that moment.
His body was torn to pieces, his feathers were plucked away,
and because of all his cuts and bruised body, the remaining plumage
lost its splendorous colors; no matter how well he took care,
lost glossiness never to be restored, no matter how gently he combs,
his feathers fall out feebly;
when he looks back, he was a prisoner of vice
he was obsessed by insatiable lust,
the flower is so colorful
it smelled so sweet, he kept following
bewitched by the beauty of its alluring looks;
before he was aware of it, he got stuck in the mud, sunk into
the depth of vice; and though, he got out from mud just before
he was suffocated to death, his entire body was covered with
the scabs of evil,
the water flows, though he has no strength
to cross the river any more, it’s time to, he may be
washed away by the water, or dip himself in the water
to wash his scabs of evil out.
I woke up at the break of dawn,
with the feeling that all hope is gone,
I was not sure where to begin,
but I was determined to win.
No dazzling stars,
no visible moonlight,
no chirping birds,
to tease my empty words.
I walked through the door with a subtle grin,
nursing bruises all over my skin.
I tried to escape yesterday’s punishment,
and saturate my mind with hope and fulfillment.
Walking down the dark empty street,
a cab stopped exactly at my feet,
I hired him to take me to the mountains,
to breath out the stagnant air
and repair my body’s wear and tear.
His grouchy voice thundered through my ears,
he spoke with a strange accent that I could hardly hear,
It passes through one ear, and suddenly disappears.
We journeyed through sleeping towns,
they stared at us without a sound,
steep hills and rocky path,
bending streets and winding roads
dumping my burdensome loads.
He made a sudden turn,
and I felt a sensational yearn
spilling over in my soul.
Mother nature bursts from the horizon
and filled my heart with glad tidings.
Layers of mountains blink at me,
taking me up and down the gigantic tree
guiding me to my unseen dreams,
while patches of green and sun burnt grass
prepare the city for the morning mass.
I saw her bursting through the thick grey clouds,
and I stopped the car and spoke to her aloud,
I climb on top of a nearby rock,
and reached towards her and interlock.
I was just in time for the meeting,
Oh how my soul yearns for this healing.
Mother nature looked at me with a grin
she shook my hand,
and said, “where shall we begin?”
I lamented the troubles of my piercing heart,
and requested for a balance start.
What took you so long?
I know that you have been hurting all along,
and I have been waiting for you to prove them wrong.
“Worry no more,
I am going to fulfill the desires of your burning soul,
look around and tell me what you see,
observe carefully and you will agree.
Let me ignite your body and soul,
and sooth the sorrows that you bore,
sleepless nights,
daily fights,
unfair treatment,
and treacherous lies.
The meeting came to an end,
and I felt free again,
the peshmerga drove up the steep hill
and greeted me with goodwill
Dawn fully broke out into broad day light,
and filled my soul with joy and delight.
©2013 Christine Phillips
July 25th, 1996 tied the Gordian knot,...
(I spent noose cents)
begot deux daughters, the major events
both since flew cuckoo's nest,
the eldest angry at papa for offense
sieve behavior fatherly bond
forever sundered permanent rents
unforgiving progeny vents
bile, explosive vitriol whence...
Aye yen for bachelorhood every
now and again doth mildly abate
after saying "I do...,"
when axed by justice of peace
nearly two dozen years wedded
bull hissing, rest assured
I will abbreviate
encapsulate, fulminate, narrate...
and forthrightly admit,
yours truly oft times
yearned to abdicate
spousal unbridled warfare and injustice
reason enough to abnegate
null and void husbandry role
ex post facto finding thyself
questioning pledging troth even
Frosty the snowman would abominate
to say "screw this -
marriage nut for me"
bolt in a huff boot (dang)
ne'er did absquatulate
altercations that adhere
to rule of physics
and tended to accelerate
as muzzled, neigh saying saddled
former groom did
lament and accentuate
his physical needs,
she did not accommodate,
cuz this solitary soul
(with good n plenti horse sense),
never did fully acculturate
with female species,
one whose blunt cold front
seemed to accumulate growing
gripe list bestowed courtesy this mate
tit for tat wrathful pitiless,
(not so cherry) feedback unmatched
within annotated coupled courtship of fools,
this scrivener with steely
iron maiden breastplate,
nonetheless did rack up and accumulate
battle scars hitting bullseye,
since donned with
corrective vision spectacles
hen pecking, needling termagant
untameable shrew did acerate
(worse fate than death -
validated by grim reaper)
avowed covenant thru torturous years
exponentially punishing innocent soul
(slightly biased) did acervate
popping one after
another over the counter acetylsalicylate,
no ampule adequate
to relieve permanent suffering,
thus lifetime electric shock treatment,
nsync quaffing prescription
kool aid battery acidulate
ineffective to activate
palliative, and restore
liberty (yeah) sense and sensibility
subsequently providing freedom
against further wifely scourges
whereby Doctor Phil Ander
refused to adjudicate,
perhaps understandable why I advocate
selfless mercy killing (euthanasia)
for this urbane country bumpkin.
After a solid decade of what can only be described as the worst of luck.
I've grown accustomed to living a life of pain and misery.
Fearful of this new uncertainty, again left helpless and unaware
Although uncomfortable and confused, I continued onward with my life.
The diagnosis is only the first painful and stunning blow.
Amazed at the unbelievable power of something microscopic in nature.
Specialists in the field call it a virus, I call it being condemned.
Now likely sentenced to a treacherous and pre-mature death.
The full extent of this revelation leaves me struggling to understand.
In one invasive procedure, they pluck away a piece of my liver.
While countless needles drain my tainted crimson blood.
Both attempts at deciphering the enormity of my affliction.
After the final drop of my blood is finally collected, The doctors hold an answer.
They give me their assurance of a definitive and timely explanation.
The phone rings, the doctor is ready to reveal his final prognosis.
It seems treatment is possible, and success may be achievable.
Astonished, I wonder if I have dreamed the entire conversation.
But, unbelievably his spoken words are determined to be truth.
Many human beings, not so lucky, to receive this rare gift of life.
The feeling is strange, following so many years of horrific nature.
Reluctant to savor the moment, fearing that it may suddenly disappear.
Death has taken me three times prior, at birth, and twice before thirty.
All three instance came without prior warning, unannounced occurrences.
Left this fourth time, to ponder death's arrival, this time, not so lucky.
I dreadfully contemplate what, if anything, exists after crossing over.
A fear that has plagued mankind since Eve took that first fateful bite.
The reaper achieved his goal, but I was unwilling to cross Phlegethon.
inexplicably, each time my soul has been revived, prior to complete loss.
Mind and body replenished with life, but some part of me remained deceased.
Returning some what less than, what was my previous state of being.
Losing only it seems, what I held onto so dearly in my life.
Small pieces of hope, faith, and joy. Now left absent from my soul.
Only time will tell if this virus, will undue death's losing streak.
Or, if the Doctors confidence will be proven true, allowing me to survive.
Yet, Again.
A "Highly" Debated Issue
From glaucoma to chemotherapy
Medical marijuana has its place
But you won’t find any prescribed
In the conservative Sunshine State
Chris couldn’t eat while under treatment
Watched him lose one-hundred pounds
He had no access to an appetite stimulant
His weight was 85 when laid in the ground
Hefty Jen had lived a life of kindness
Taught spiritually uplifting courses
She suffered when chemo raced through her system
Until people said, “How beautifully slim her corpse is.”
When Dad’s glaucoma grew severe
He relied only on eye drops that made him tear
His gift of sight was taken slowly
Though THC might have helped his eyes clear
And when I first wrestled with ulcerative colitis
A college friend brought me a joint, said, “Try it”
Less than an hour later I was eating without pain
But laws are clear, Florida doctors can’t prescribe it
Research has proved there are benefits
Only medical marijuana use can provide
But those who worry about drug abuse
Say those who could benefit should be denied
Each day in the headlines we read of drunk drivers
Mostly teens who seek access through friends
And if they want marijuana, they find a way to get it
But for those who abide by laws, agony never ends
If smoking pot or ingesting a tablet of THC
Can help a person who is suffering great pain
Don’t you think the time has come
To ask prohibitionists to explain
Why people who are hurting needlessly
Cannot have access to any remedy
That soothes their aches, improves their last days
Diminishing the symptoms of their tragedy
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Why I love C.D’s poem “ A Highly Debated Issue”:
Carolyn Devonshire’s poems showcase the extraordinary thoughtful mind behind those lines. All of Carolyn’s poems are profound, and full of depth, but this poem especially touched me - I had the similar experience of losing a beloved one to the deadly disease, and we were not able to give him relief during the last days of intense pain. Carolyn was a strong, sensitive, generous, caring human being and a talented poetess, who loved life in her own way - she loved sand, and left her footprints on the shores of this mysterious earth.
Celebrating Carolyn’s poetry: an Uncontest Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
My children came into my
Room one winter afternoon
My daughter softly said
Mama we tried to tell you this
Sometime in the middle of June
We have all decided that we
Have our own life to live
Somewhere down the line
Something had to give
We have decided to take
You to a home and we
Hope you like it there
Nurses around the clock and
People that really care
I can’t began to tell you
What I felt in my heart
Everything I lived for now
Suddenly torn apart
I saw no regret as I
Looked in their face
My son said mama learn to like it
Because here you will spend
The rest of your days
They picked me up and tossed
Me around like a rag doll
I could feel the heat inside as
My blood began to boil
Two months in that home
My worst fears came to pass
Orderly slapping me around
While others stood back and laugh
They rolled up a newspaper
And hit me on the head
When I needed to use the bed pan
They laughed and said use your bed
I had no strength in my legs
To carry me to the bathroom
Because of that I laid in
My own waste all afternoon
A young girl came to my room
Carrying my dinner tray
She took my urine poured
It in my tea, and said
Drink and eat hearty today
Where are my children
Must this continue be
What did I do so wrong
For this to happen to me?
I heard about the treatment the
Elderly endure while living in
This place they call home
But I always knew that in my
Heart here I didn't belong
My worst fears in
My whole entire life
Has finally come to pass
I have no more strength
Don’t know how long I will last
There’s nothing I want more
Than to be release from this torment
When I asked my kids to get me out
It turned into an argument
My children said they couldn't
Care for me they rather be alone
And that I should try to get
Use to my brand new home
They have children and what
Goes around will come around
As they will plainly see
And they will someday regret
What they didn't have to do to me
I am going to see my Lord
He won’t let this go on
Soon I will be from earth bound
Settling in my Heavenly home
When I see Jesus it will be
Worth the suffering and the pain
My worst fears will have died
And eternal happiness I will gain
Form:
I am who I am
Were you to ask where I’m from my past my tale my next of kin
the answer lies in who tells my narrative my twist what kind of spin
My autobiography is quickly shown in who I am will be in time
past present future blend in context and contingency overt and sublime
No doubt the product of genes and socialisation is rather pertinent
thus mixing and mingling draws frameworks but is also quite reticent
German ancestry Lower Saxon and East Prussian born after the War
struggling with Genocide Holocaust trans-generational down to my core
Grew up in Hamburg somewhat lonely understood by not many but few
too young in my school year a class clown a rebel a critic because I knew
Teachers could not reject or downgrade me since I got full marks in exams
so I carved out my niche opposed authority of Messieurs and Mesdames
A late child of the Student Revolution an exchange to California ensued
where hot love struck me like balm on my wounds with Gigi from Peru
After graduation I rejected being supported by my father and joined the Army
to gain independence yet the method to gain freedom now seems very barmy
Could not leave the Forces despite pretty vigorous conscientious objection
did my best to help others as a medical doctor in humanistic inception
My duties brought me to Wales by the Irish Sea with five children and marriage
country medic and farm house guiding my kids and then nuptial miscarriage
Depression struck no light at the end of the tunnel just darkness and void
too much drink downcast in my mental wheel chair and almost destroyed
Went to rehab in South Africa for treatment where God-incidence came
where I met my wife best friend lover soulmate who had suffered the same
Now I sit in the sun in South Africa stopped medicine write story and poem
reinvent my life some inner child stuff self-actualisation and certainly growing
New awareness novel perspectives pacifism philosophy and many questions
but the knowledge that kindness love and compassion are more than suggestions
My most intimate companion apart from my gorgeous wife is depression
both showed me my path journey and meaning my own life’s repossession
So few words about where I come from who I am will become and will be
so if you wish to explore more of my roots and my future please read my poetry