Long Underling Poems
Long Underling Poems. Below are the most popular long Underling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Underling poems by poem length and keyword.
Power is dynamite
Power is unleased
Unleased for evil
Unleased for good
Good brings joy
Good brings love
Love is of God
Love releases
Releases happiness
Releases freedom
Freedom to live
Freedom to be responsible
Responsible in relationship
Responsible in life
Life opens doors
Life for living
Living is a joy
Living each moment
Moment slowly make minutes
Moment do make hours
Hours to use gifts
Hours to understand
Understand oneself
Understand others
Others are important
Others make secure
Secure in life
Secure in all
All aspects
All that's worthy
Worthy ideas
Worthy duty
Duty of motherhood
Duty of home
Home is where the hearth warms
Home fills the heart
Heart filled with good
Heart filled with sympathy
Sympathy for situations
Sympathy for one's position
Position of underling
Position of powerlessness
Powerlessness at home
Powerlessness in business
Business of the world
Business of management
Management unrequited
Management of strength
Strength
Unrequited
I have always been a minimalist in my writing
using simple words and no ornamentation
I cannot do iambic pentameter
yet, my writing has a melody and rhythm
I started as a bitty little girl
in an attic room penning stories
negligible
a speck, a smidgen in the scope of this world
I saw a million things from my attic window
the birds, the seasons, the sky
I was bullied in school as a child
so I felt belittled and beaten down
but in my writing I threw off the scars
I still do with words unadorned and pure
I have been to the darkest, fathomless pit
had nothing
been an underling to abuse
kept down
but inside a humble flame burned
and I refused to be diminished one day beyond
so, I crawled up from my pit of nothingness
and I stand here a simple girl
who writes minimal art . . .
______________________________
December 19, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/A Small Little Speck
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1095-610-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
High Powered Fences,
Beyond Your Vote
Armchair Politian's sitting beside Ceasar(a),
believing or at least making believe...
that they are for the people,
and not against.
"They" have been there too long.
Rot is strong, coming from the corpses.
They point thin-sharp fingers,
and makeup rules,
using the tools, of the trade.
Lies like snakes,
that live on both land and water,
in every form of underling,
pressed into service...
for the queen, of nothing.
Lowlife voters pleading for honesty,
from dark web media that has sold out.
The land-turtles living in office,
fighting over the scraps of the victory garden,
a warning of war already in the distance.
Like bugs eating their own fallen,
while striving to start a new colony,
they chant over the electric lines...
martyr-ism.
Of a hero, no, of a monster.
How is lifting evil up okay?
If not backed by the lies of a religion,
as dark as those that hide their face,
like cowards do,
and bow.
You have read it at the end of every book.
It is the same sunrise and sunset.
It is just another day,
no matter what the media say.
They scream and yell and cry,
like Hinny Penny and the Sky.
The facts quit... not quite the case.
The prayers of a country,
saints gathered knowing all are coming.
Standing up for the weak,
taking back and remembering.
Waking up the old to dance again...
on the government franchise,
we should own from the illegal gotten gain,
the children of the political elite,
and supreme, cheerleaders of the third world.
The larks in the media,
busy telling us...
all they want us to know.
The reality is "they" do their best business,
lying to us all.
There will be an accounting.
There will be, a fall.
The time is coming.
That is the call.
The Battle of the Sexes
By Franklin Price
1/28/2017
The battle of the sexes
Not about the sword and sheath
Who will be above
Or who will be beneath
Who will be the leader
Who's the underling?
Neither one is who I say
Equality's the thing
Sharing in the doing
No matter what the task
“Why can't we just get along?”
Is the question you should ask
Day to day a balancing
Of how to get along
One secret's not to clam up
If the other says, “what's wrong?”
A relationship is honesty
And mutual respect
If not, I'm here to tell you
What it is you can expect
An increasing lack of interest
That soon will make you exes
End the war between you
And the battle of the sexes
When I re-broach a pressing, unresolved issue,
I wish you’d engage me in productive, fair debate
instead of withering me with sarcasm.
When did your seeming love for me morph into hate?
When I can’t do whatever you ask of me
“Right NOW,” I wish you would patiently wait.
I wish you wouldn't rudely foist your duties off on me.
You know I already have a full plate.
I wish you would stop treating me as your underling.
I long to be valued, as your equal, your cherished mate.
Please mend fences. Don't force me to leave
and burn bridges behind me. It will soon be too late!
Never disagree with the Officer Class
When you’re serving in the ranks,
Never disagree with the Officer Class
For you’ll never get any thanks.
They seem to think
The time they spent
Getting Commissioned
Makes them Omnipotent.
Heaven protect the squaddie
Who’s discovered to have been right
For the Officer Class hate the thought
Of an underling who proves to be bright.
The NCO learns as he earns his stripes
The approved way of how
To Impart common sense and wisdom
While appearing to kowtow.
You have to learn
And understand
How to make them think
They’re in command.
No never disagree with the Officer Class,
Learn to manipulate them with guile.
No never disagree with the Officer Class
For they get grumpy, prickly, and hostile.
Ignore this advice
If you choose
But if you do, brother,
You’re bound to lose.
The Start
A plain white piece of paper,
was waiting on my desk.
Waiting for me, just me.
Or Waiting for you...
just you?
Who put it there?
Why would they care?
What do they want?
Will it matter?
The reason for the surface,
clean and stolidly pure...
was to begin a story, start a poem,
or perhaps build a bridge to "possibility".
Emotion not yet caught,
quartered and or...
placed in the right spot,
will be needed to complete...
the process.
Time being the underling issue,
in all our lives.
We dream...
and even think...
and dwell on wonderful things,
but never put them down.
Instead, we put them off.
Time is really the answer.
Make it your own, bend it and
work it into "compliance-y" with your life.
Never let it take from you,
and give it only what you feel it is due.
Precious not to be wasted...
to be considered a treasure,
in every breath.
Again the paper waits.
The question remains...
The heart of a lion
The soul of a flea
The energy of a gnat
Please do not let this be me
Reaching into my junk drawer
I pick up three items that give me glee
A candy bar wrapper,
And a playing card with a decorated bee.
Dragons in my undercarriage,
Dolphin party in the sea,
This poem is starting to feel jazzy,
It is lively, and it’s free.
I line up the unicorns,
Who are laughing at my knee.
They ask Trixie to join them,
So she dances away with thee.
Her underling muses
Chip and Dale come running to me.
They are dying to write a poem,
So we line up the junk items three.
Let’s make it funny, says Chip
A cut up we all agree.
But Dale wants a sad poem,
So we begin to disagree.
Trixie's assistants laugh at my consternation
And run away you see,
So this is the end of the poem,
Which made me yell a “whee!”
Yesterday I had a short circuit
So, I just had to go sit back
And just rework it
Been writing for more
Than a week a half
Boy this download did come real fast
Yeah with the music
Man it was blast
I then had a quick reload
And hear
Clear beyond sound of one's ear
Is what here in deed did come
Laying back and leading my mind…on om
Now I will explain it to you some
Here to you this new encode
The next day the sun did rise
Coming to no surprise
Thinking a day to rest my mind
Truly would be the best and the wise
Laying head upon northern star
Opening mind thoughts whatever thou art
Electric spark spoke these words that are
I speak in a tongue
Even to thee you young
It’s about the Universal One
So, Lets take a journey
See vibrations in light and sound
Even when it appears
Absolutely none
Around
The explanation of the FORCE
So, listen up and you can learn from me
Frequency of Orientation in Rays of Circuit-light Energies
Now about that
The Jedi Situation
Well hear Ye thee interpolation
Yoda…Ye the one Alpha
Qui-Gon Jinn…Quickly understand I Great Officer Known Namaste General
Mace Windu…Makes wind do
Obi-Wan…All be I THE ONE
Anikan…Any one can
Padme…Place made in thee
Darth Maul…Dark Master of all the Underlords
Darth Vader…Darker Vampire demon rising
Count Doku…Conniving, obsessed, underling too does kill ye, you
Supreme Leader Snoke…Sinister Underlord, prince Ruthless Evil Maser eternal leader Sin I Satan cross hater
Wow what an ego man
That name does runs all across this great vast land
So, that’s the 411 on this here download
And now that you know the tongue of the code
Go have fun with it and don’t crash the mode
exclamation, which does nothing to stem dead locked high tide
proliferation of high-powered assault bazookas
manned by berserk cruel death eaters,
arch nemesis picks off life with a blip
simultaneously bipedal hominid(s) grip handily rounded dirk
as backup in case clip
misses mark, where siege mentality induces
nationwide sprinting into lockdown mode deterring by a drip
fiendish homicidal metamorphoses, where transmogrification
of generic guy wielding weapon subjugating hostages pits malignancy fill lip
mailer daemon hell bent on besieging bait (unaware
Snapchatting linkedin flickr ring beings) burst deadly quip
barrage of bullets malicious intent to spray
killing machines deliver click and rip
paying plenti deathly instagram howls amidst pandemonium,
thence funereal slip
epitaphs etched on tombstones proliferate taking souls to Hades trip.
Brutal and nasty nefarious scheme directed at humble lettered folks
(like those comprising my home town -
once evoked pastoral meme Lake Woebegone)
minding their p's and q's, when in extremis
out of the blue nightmare interrupts idyllic dream
a sudden bitta bing bitta bang rings terrorist catcall
followed by red tide and river of bloodied body where caskets
rendered veneer of dark wood within lies corpse,
pistol whipped, shredded and outkast, where mortician daubs creme.
Soundcloud boom echoes, thus occurs staccato sinister sonic strafes across
freshly fielded tombstone; pearl jam gray slate, some formerly anonymous
namesake, which underling, higgs bo son or daughter blitzkrieg cross
invisible trajectories shatter (at shutterfly speed),
democratic rubric rendered dross
disposable lives of society with senseless slaughter, whereat somber silence
pines nostalgia for Mill on the Floss
when life seemed innocent against gun metal gloss
wails of agony at another human loss.