Long Unscramble Poems
Long Unscramble Poems. Below are the most popular long Unscramble by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unscramble poems by poem length and keyword.
While on patrol
Down by the beach
A shadow in the water
Just out of my reach
It's off a young girl
About sixteen years old
What would have troubled her
For her life to fold
We report it in
And await the coroners van
To unscramble this enigma
As to why this all began
Down at the morgue
Through her belongings we look
A bracelet we find
And her diary book
We check on the computer
Under the missing persons file
This girl so young
Still a juvenile
We sit and ponder
At her watery stray
This girl so young
She's a runaway
We head back to the patrol car
For we have sad news to tell
How do you tell her parents
For inside me it dwells
We knock on the door
And her mother appears
May we please come in
As her smile disappears
On the beach front tonight
A young girl was found
In the shallows by the pier
I'm so very sorry, she drowned
On the way back to the precinct
I'm thinking of home
Of my own young daughter
Pray-fully, she'll never roam
A week has passed
Since they laid her to rest
They said, look after your daughter
I sure will mam, I'll do my best
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss-4.php
I ran across some photos the other day
hanging off an old branch on our family tree…
and as photos often do they awoke a memory in me.
I love how that happens…sometimes as down memory lane I ramble
a simple photograph or two can make a memory unscramble.
It was the night we taught our grandchildren to play poker
(If their mom and dad were there they might’ve been appalled!)
The night we took our four grandchildren…
and made gamblers of them all.
In our defense poker teaches many life lessons…
and to our grandchildren we wanted to relay them….
Like how as important as the cards we’re dealt…
It’s even more important how we play them.
It teaches us how to read another person…
when to bluff…and when to wait…
And how every now and then you need to take a chance
on drawing to an inside straight.
It teaches us when we have the cards….to enjoy the moment…that feeling…the rush
and how…no matter how we’d like it to be different…a full house always beats a flush.
Poker teaches us how to lose with dignity…when all we needed was that ace!
And when we have the winning hand…how to win with decency and grace.
We like to think when our grandchildren look back on our times together
They’ll remember all the fun we had…
They’ll remember our support and our praise…
They’ll remember dinners around our table
celebrating birthdays and holidays…
And in those quiet moments…
perhaps when they see an old photo hanging from our family tree
a memory will unscramble…
and they’ll remember when they were young
the night Nana and PopPop taught them how to gamble.
...A poem dedicated to a character named Koreen Mae Garson (a lady, not a man)...
Your love smokes me like a worn-out cigarette
Your love blemishes me with bite marks
You brush aside the crumbs…now I’m stomped on all over again
Your hugs are constricting like a serpent
Your hugs loses its passion…my fury vigorously sparks
You abandon me cold-bloodedly, now I choke in harsh punishment
Your treachery strangles me…you don't consider my screams of importance
You snatch away my humility and leave me with the crumbs of shame
Your arrogance plants a grave in me…you don't notice that I desire your radiance
You ditch me with senseless remarks and you make me feel game
You ruin my modesty
You stole away my heart’s virtue
You bruise my sustaining dynasty
You complete me with rue
Your conceitedness intoxicates me…
Your arrogance underwhelm thee…
You unscramble my remains and insert me with the liquid of corruption
Your self-confidence leads me to never-ending fate…you disregard my joy
You handle me with maltreatment/enchantment and smudge me with your provoking expression
You crushed me with your cunning plans, now you made me hunt after my prized boy
Your hatred penetrates me with lush, crooked trace
You swap me onto the floor, now I’m smashed into smithereens
Your smiles lose its splendor...your enlightenment gains disgrace
You disown me carelessly…now I spilled your moldering beans
You’re imprisoned by the chains of infuriating heat,
Feeding off the crumbs of deception
The pre-dawn rang
as cat choirs sang
in waring gangs
sharp and rank
before they sprang
with claw and fang.
Isn’t it an overweening piety
to think that diverse cat societies
would address conflicts more politely
observe more cultural propriety
and politic more peacefully and quietly
than our own species, which behaves violently
Are we not, in part, their masters?
Don’t we war for goals we’re after?
Aren’t some of our leaders practically gangsters?
Does any species author more disasters?
Humans are - frankly - alpha-predator bastards.
If the language of cats, we could unscramble,
and into their feral dialogs we could wrangle,
perhaps we’d see that they’re just following our example.
Our journey begins
the moment we're born-
and where it will lead to,
remains unknown.
As children, we're guided-
not left forlorn;
but, soon comes that time
to walk on our own.
Our journey becomes
a puzzle to find
the answers to what
our purpose will be.
Some steps give us sight-
and others will blind
the path we must follow
to clearly, see.
And so it continues-
this journey of ours
with steps that unfold
a lifetime on Earth;
With answers unspoken,
we reach for the stars-
unscramble life's puzzle
given at birth.
‘We played wedding songs,
and you didn’t dance,
so we played funeral songs,
and you didn’t weep’
Luke 7:32b
Scribes and Pharisees, lean in.
They lean away, their fingertips at play,
nimble, with no paper cut. The pipers toot
out a jig and they scowl; then a dirge
and they skirt. Skittish of prophetic noise,
they amble for their toys and go on
walkabouts to gather up the fish
before the net goes out. Digits, hush,
or like the dastardly, wiggle about
underhandedly.
Scribes and Pharisees, at the skirt
of the Savior, don’t recognize
his mild behavior; they criticize.
Whereas, one woman chances to believe,
to receive power to be healed of her infirmity;
Pharisees harrumph to repeal - “not on the Sabbath!”
The scroll rolls out like a red carpet, snatched back up.
It is only for the designated driver to enforce.
And enforce with force, he does; take his pill.
Chill while each stays blind, lame, deaf, demonic.
The wise that hide their eyes in Jesus’ hem,
go left and right, on the narrow. Miracles
and forgiveness of hidden rose petals.
Heaven is dung to those who would rather cling
to popularity, religiosity, to their perfect life.
And what will they have at the end of the dusty trail.
No one to listen to them. Will every day be like a Sabbath,
where they aren’t allowed to pick up their mat
and escape through heaven’s gate? Yet, they shall see
the walk of their enemies, piled high smiles, the light
before darkness, fire and brimstone, hell
to be exact. Never again will they catch a glimpse
of what they lost, though they try to unscramble
their minds, lost to forever time, without a save.
Sometimes sun rays feel deliciously nutritious
in delightful ways upon my then titillated skin.
Sometimes early dawn’s ideal golden streaks
smolder atop the ocean in ways that awe me.
At those times, I flounder trying to unscramble
my power to articulate all my feelings convey.
When ocean waves cascade then fade crashes
with a blustering, continuing bombast-style,
it seems a brag of guile lacking any inhibition.
Sometimes my emotions sense a divine providence
of mysterious insist in a glorious, intricate sea.
Sometimes I feel an existing cryptic, dolorous and
lecherous content equally miraculous in sea depths.
At all these times I feel with breezed emotional might
that I am truly focused as a neophyte of life.
Neighborhood Gossip
He walks all alone and does evil things,
quietly making puppets walk without strings.
He's the only one who emerged from the wreck.
When you sleep, he'll stab you in the neck.
Am I Wiser Now?
I wanted to know what it all meant
so I visited the Asian continent.
Am I wiser now, back in my hometown?
I have jet lag and walk upside down.
Life Mission
The doctor gave me a slap and shook my head,
until he had fully scrambled my brain.
The nurse gave me a diaper and the doctor said,
"You've got eighty years to unscramble it again."
Unimpressed
He's well known and he's well read,
but I wouldn't be misled.
Even lettuce has a head.
Bee Orientation
Welcome, friend, to the hive
It's true, no one gets out alive,
but, before you're done,
you'll have lots of fun.
Ashamed like a tree
by the wind bent
angry like the wind
that did the bending
neither I or my friend
could remember
the words in the poem
we had read.
On the cruelty of
the assignment
mulling in bed
wouldn't composing
be better than
the parroting?
But at nine decided
would best go sleep
and the adults obey.
Astonished
on awaking next day
every word
had surfaced to my head
like interest given free
by the bank
or seeds sown in
and next day
myriads of flowers
rainbow green
on a carpet blown in by wind.
Lumens angels of the night
power dreams
shine bright
when the heart is asleep
fears unearthing
past errors reveal
so history itself
wouldn't repeat
with warnings veiled
in terror
to unscramble
a car crashing icy roads
may predict
running away from
a monster may mean
to returns and embrace
to heal.
Unrestrained by heart's
fear or greed
sleep walks
where he wants unseen
finding pieces of puzzles
truth reveals
only when the reason is asleep.
Stars and moon shine only
in the dark
when the sun is asleep.