Long Unthankful Poems
Long Unthankful Poems. Below are the most popular long Unthankful by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unthankful poems by poem length and keyword.
Let Jesus Be The Answer
By: Miracle Man
6/18/2020
Protesters use visual objects to air their whine,
encouraging others to grab a sign and take part.
Very seldom do minds change due to words on a sign,
because hatred is spawned inside a man’s wicked heart.
Therefore, permanence won’t come through force or coercion,
When change arrives through coercion, it always divides.
Unyielding unity seems to be the assertion,
but just like a pancake, every issue has two sides.
? 2 Timothy 3 ?
1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
5 Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.
6 For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts,
7 Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.
8 Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith.
9 But they shall proceed no further: for their folly shall be manifest unto all men, as theirs also was.
Perilous Times
Written: by Miracle Man
September 25, 2020
Lord, Hear our prayers as we intercede,
on behalf of our troubled world today.
Disobedient people good thoughts impede,
and each day brings some new affray.
Today we are living in those perilous times,*
that you said the last days would bring.
The media reports daily on riots and crimes,
change our hearts before death bell’s ring.
*2 Timothy 3:1-4
1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
carefully laid down one by one
penning the words as they come
choosing ever so prudently
a poem for ignominy
a tacit agreement quietly kept
between a mind and body adept
some coherant ideology
based on etymology
euphemistic ideas at best
lying explicits up to rest
compromising the mind inside
to make its speech coincide
with what most people want to hear
in their surrogate heart to tickle their ear
now the popular circumlocution
playing it down by substitution
negative vibes are now in the plate
served up instead of outright hate
dissolution has overtaken divorce
makes a better illusion of course
adultery and stealing just to begin
is no longer thought to be living in sin
"consenting adults" and "doing your thing"
"number one first " and "having a fling"
unthankful children are just being cool
the shiftless hustler no longer a fool
trust and loyalty things of the past
friends are only transitional cast
the savant has become a clown
as ideology touches the ground
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
WRITEN IN 1980
158.
My Country Hates Me
Once I called myself “Illuminati”
Of the god attendant “Annunaki”
Whence I said “stupid majority”
To the fellowmen of my country
For once I considered me a decoy
Of someone high who can employ
A major disturbance against PNoy
Just like playing cards for toy
Ungrateful, unthankful – they labeled me
Parables laden to rebuke discreetly
As the said majority surrounds me
Drained I all of temerity
Mine – four months of transgression
Theirs – eighteen months of retribution
Forlorn me to concise perdition
Hear my call of reconciliation!
Now this moment of abeyance & disconnectivity
I can feel how my country hates me
Watching the extent of my stupidity
Eat & sleep idly to eternity?!
-07/07/2012
(Dumarao)
*My Dark Poems Collection
-07/18/2012
(Dumarao)
*My Dark Poems Collection
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe,
Contains recordings of my utmost gaffes,
The other, mocks! (Thank God that there are Two!)
Within the front room (where Critics, cuds chew)
Are played the scenes where everybody LAUGHS!
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe.
And next to it, an organ-parlor, too!
Where musical ‘slips’ turn into giraffes!
The other, mocks! (Thank God that there are Two!)
The Worst: a Hall where all my Words Untrue
Come back at me in spears, spikes, stones and staffs!
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe.
And Last: a garden sewn only with Rue,
And stones carved with unthankful epitaphs…
The other, mocks! (Thank God that there are Two!)
I’m stuck in them! Though at my feet I hew,
I cannot cut these leather prisons off!
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe.
The other, mocks! (Thank GOD that there are Two!)
January 8, 2019
Is Judgment Near
Miracle Man
2/11/2022
It’s more than a virus infecting the land,
we awaken each day to a state of paranormal.
My thoughts are that God has removed his hand,
and things will never return to being normal.
Prophecy is being fulfilled as each day goes by,
are we nearing the day when man will succumb?
Protest is rampant, and for free stuff is the cry,
the peace that man seeks God says won’t come.
2 Timothy 3:1-5
'This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.'
All that I had, just yesterday
Has suddenly, been taken away
Me yes me, a foolish man of clay
Suddenly I have so much to say
When instead, I'd be wise to pray
Why oh why, me oh my
Take me now I want to die
I liked it better, when I was perched on high
My wings were strong, I loved to fly
I was given much, I gave no thanks
I sat upon lush river banks
My ship majestic, I watched as it sank
Now this world seems cold and dank
My cup was full it over flowed
Yet gratitude I barely showed
Instead of narrow, I chose wider road
My love of self it barely slowed
If only I had seen more clear
I wonder if I'd now be here
Feeling alone and filled with fear
Oh please dear God, I need you near
I heard him say, I'm sorry son
Your life is over, now it's done
You chose your god, I wasn't the one
Love of plenty and pleasured fun!
So down to Hell my soul is brought
A place of pain both cold and hot
My insides squeezed inside a knot
Now what I treasured doesn't mean a lot
From this nightmare, I thankfully awake
My soul and being begin to shake
Please Lord forgive me, my mistake
Help me learn to give, instead of take!
I try to be thankful every day
With God's help, stay on the narrow way
It's not about me and that's okay
Vision much clearer, when to Jesus I pray.
This poem was inspired by my brother Roy.
He sent an email that asked "What if you only woke up with what you said
thanks for yesterday?" what a great question!
When someone sneezes, we say God Bless you!
With others we know, we say, may say have a good
day.
When we see some of the best poems here,
we say nothing?
It's so cold,when 60 visits to a poem have
visits with no comnents.
I don't know the visitors!
I never want to either, no, not me.
Just small minded, cold and hearts
the size of a pea.
Most of us know the time each of us take
to create a genuine poem.
So why not type thank you at least??
Are you that unthankful at a caring poet feast!
A total three second process, holy cow?
Why not give an uncommented poem
at least a wow?
After all a human being wrote it.
Can't you be a true poet and show it!
Use your keyboard today, say thank you.
Can't you give a poem more than a walk-
through?
You might bring a smile to a poet's face.
Not recognizing another?
So tragic and a total disgrace!
*Not on the poem or the poet! The onus
falls directly on them, the poet free-
loaders.. Yes, them.*
Panagiota Romios
4/13/2019
Last Days
Written: by Miracle Man
1/27/2021
Like Sodom and Gomorrah the world is living,
we’re compromising daily, our morals, in stages.
Hurrying through life harboring some misgiving,
burning precious time, turning our last pages.
As clock time, becomes more time foregone,
we grasp for straws thought to be inspiring.
In time, many become an emotional pawn,
and the straws grasped, were seldom aspiring.
2 Timothy Chapter 3
1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
5 Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.
We were not so poor
To be ungrateful
For what we lacked.
Full plates in a heated house
Made it seem undue to complain
For lack of poetry or a candy cane.
Ne’er a penny in a bush
Nor gift under the tree was for us
With corn, milk and eggs a plenty.
We dared not wish for more.
Each night we knelt in thanks
Before dreaming of a hotdog,
Birthday cake, Christmas
Gift, or a dime to buy
An ice cream cone.
The weeds we kept at bay
The trees chopped expertly
Our toil stayed the rest.
We were not so poor
To be unthankful
For what we lacked
As we hoed the corn
Milked the cows
Feed the chickens.
Starved of play we were
too busy making hay
To be ungrateful.