Long Warnings Poems
Long Warnings Poems. Below are the most popular long Warnings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Warnings poems by poem length and keyword.
I awkwardly, ineptly, and submissively fumbled thru life...,
whereat purposefulness rarely gained traction
Fatherhood (half my life time ago)
bolstered reasonable rhyme
manifesting itself before
these myopic bespectacled eyes.
Infancy, babyhood, and Childhood
evidenced, noticed, and witnessed
adequate basic provisions,
and no shortage of food
engendered dynamic cohesion
allowed, enabled, and provided
"mama's boy" imbued,
and attempted to compensate
being socially withdrawn
posting and answering
personal classified advertisements,
(while marital vows
long since pledged),
now in hindsight such risqué
communiqués juvenile and lewd
sense and sensibility
of healthy emotional, mental
and physical natural maturation
social withdrawal did occlude
invariably classmates found
lack of responsiveness rude.
Additionally, yours truly
never field tested
self reliance skill sets,
but rather overstayed his welcome
livingsocial with parents
at 324 Level Road,
whose patience he sorely tested
ofttimes giving rise
since hashtagged as
dad's infamous midnight lectures
heavily referencing expletives
which vituperative ultimatums
extemporaneously delivered courtesy
paternal linkedin progenitor of mine
when the doomsday clock struck twelve
allowing, enabling, providing
standing room only
promising colorful denunciatory epithets
assaulting, cannonading, firing...
exploding character assassination
verbal thermonuclear bombs squarely
lobbed at unemployed sole son,
his/him offspring afflicted then (three
plus decades ago and now)
with debilitating anxiety/
social panic, palmar hyperhidrosis,
body dysmorphia, and
irritable bowel for starters.
I (a rather meek individual)
stood still as a statue
silently weathering such
blistering, calumniating, excoriating,
fulminating, haranguing brickbats
upon a rather docile doodler with words,
who essentially internalized
torturous barrage vacuous warnings
to shape up or ship out,
which mother and father dearest
doled out their version
of abusive traumatic boot camp
survival mode qualified
as invisible contusions, fractures,
infarctions, lesions, obstructions
and ruinations upon psyche.
People with all the bad things happening
Doom is on its way
With all the people on the run
Is heaven gonna come
Again nuclear warnings, global warming
North Korea here to free us
Alktha accusations apolitical, What
And is President Trump imitating Nixon
What?
People with all the bad things happening
Doom is on its way
With all the people on the run
Is heaven gonna come
Radon, Rayon Cong What
These spellings are off, huh!
What about a dump truck, huh!
Clouded minds altimeters
God is the solution, there is no substitution
People with all the bad things happening
Doom is on its way
With all the people on the run
Is heaven gonna come
Police shootings, black on black crimes
Reverences 1970's bro do ya have a dime
None of this reterick makes any cents
Why must least that have pay the most to the government
Doom is on its way
With all the people on the run
Is heaven gonna come
Like mindedness can't tell the differents
Between Christians or sinners
New tax laws a break for the wealthy
And the middle class Oh,
Only if you make more than ninety thousand dollars
And what is the poverty level eighteen thousand
Don't know?
Doom is on its way
With all the people on the run
Is heaven gonna come
What you just don't understand
You either lie, steal or cheat the system
Everything you own you just borrow, before you get assistants
I worship God no longer do I worship religion
For only God has the perfect vision
I worship God no longer do I worship religion
Doom is on its way
With all the people on the run
Is heaven gonna come for if you believe it or not
Jesus is heaven and He's gonna come
12/03/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
I've seen Earth's epitaph:
S/He did more than Her share
to heal a broken world
Which sometimes seems to invoke anger
because I can touch what's broken
and other times provoke merely sad
because I can only feel inside
who is also wounded
Earth's living magic,
watered fertile soil,
red-blooded organic
green clean soul
is not broken
like a worn-out clock
or formerly animated toy
or obsolescent urban block
now gone inevitably bad.
EarthTribe is not so much broken
as win/lose perpetually wounded
Paradise Lost
for our lapse
of good-humored Golden Rules
win/win re-found
happy healthy bodhisattva
rebound.
What is already broken
requires outside messianic agency,
too objectively disabled
to self-stimulate healing salvation,
personally feeling better
even in continuing lonely isolation
Emergent internally vital
growing positively viral,
stealing from toxic claustrophobic disarray,
tomorrow's voices redeemed
by choices erupting therapeutic promise
today.
Organic wounds,
unlike mechanical brokenness,
give internal notice
warnings of disenabling trauma
also enable therapeutic opportunity
to pull and push risk,
to massage and stretch ambiguous feelings
touching each Other's sinews
and straps,
moral lapse,
dancing mental songs
and embodied rhythmic rap
Raptures
filling in our anti-social lapse
our monoculturing elapse
of warm
and wet
and wild compassion,
integrity's redemptive fashion.
Brokenness shrouds despair
alone
where wounds invite
our active healthy care
together happiness vocationed
for EarthTribe's ecstatic day
by faithful contenting way
inclusively inviting
inspirational repair
with those who dare
to share Earth's communal difference
to heal this wounded world.
My Pet Poems, Lou
The rains had begun pelting New Orleans.
The warnings were dire. An insurrection
Of weather on the Gulf coast was coming, urging
Everyone to escape to higher ground. That
Meant everyone! Katrina’s on the way!
The highways were halted, bumper to bumper,
While no other plans were coming! Where, oh,
Where is higher ground along the coast?
Lou came on the all-night drive with his family
To Lexington, where Woody had died
And Barkley needed a friend; we called our vet,
Seeking a beagle puppy. He called us next day.
He knew a dog named Lou, who needed a home.
So, Jim went to see the sweet boy, who
Was actually an English Foxhound, very
Like a beagle, but 20 pounds more and
Twice the height, and whose family had come
— now homeless — from now-drowned
New Orleans, leaving behind the Japanese eatery
They owned, but now infringing their escape
On friends, which meant their dear Lou,. too,
Needed a new life’s place.
We became it. Lou, I always thought, became
Our gentle giant (compared to our cockers),
Taking to Jim, who exchanged whispers with him.
Big boy though he was, everything about him was
Soft, from the way he placed his paws when walking,
To his lying patiently on the bed between us,
To the way he tilted his head when
His name was said. I cannot recall
Him barking or charging or begging.
He would receive as each hour brought him...
His life, so he seemed, had become
A patient resolution, plus a pleasant one, where
He gave happy loyalty and endearment
For our love; saved from flood, destitution,
And a New Orleans life feeling
Lost in a midst of starting all over.
He gifted us, in return, the constant peace
Of feeling found and accepted.
*********. ***********. ***********
(c) sally Young eslinger 1/9/2021
Thanks be to God
BEAUTIFUL BEACHES, A Letter to Daniel
By Curtis Johnson
Hi Daniel,
There once was a man living high on a mountain whose name was Harry
Mt. St. Helen was threatening to blow its top, and everyone started to worry
Harry had been there 60 years and thought he would live on to tell his story
So after being warned to evacuate, Harry refused and decided to tarry
Sadly, when the volcano blew, Harry was later found in 40 feet of ashes
It’s interesting at times, that life can be so tame, so sweet, and so calming. Because of our positive experiences, we relax and enjoy seasons so charming Like Harry, we are unconvinced of danger, and need not fear rumors and warnings
Sandy beaches on the oceanfront are beautiful and lots of fun, when all is sunny and bright. For eight years my family and I lived in San Francisco within four blocks of the Pacific. Believe me when I say that the Oceanside is a calming and charming place. We spent lots of time in the Golden Gate Park and on the beach.
One Sunday afternoon, my two small kids and I took a walk across the rocks above the ocean beach. The waves were coming in pretty far, but I thought that we were high enough. I thought wrong. We had not been on the rocks 5 minutes before the waters came splashing against the rocks that we were walking on. I held the kids and protected them from the big splash. I got pretty wet, but no harm was done, and the lesson was well received.
The sandy beaches of life will often suddenly turn into rushing waves of sea salty waters. My friend, there are times when the volcanoes of life will heat up and blow their top. When they do, we best be aware, heed the warnings, and seek higher ground.
Dan, I do not know what you may be going through presently, but I am praying for you. If for any reason you taste those salty waters of what was once a calm and sandy beach, I have every reason to believe that God is going to change things for you. If the volcanoes of your life have blown its top, I have every reason to believe that the ashes will not bury you. When the troublesome adversities of life blow against all of us, God is always both warning and leading us out to safety.
So Daniel, my friend, may we together seek higher ground. Love you. Curtis09262013
Do not open the adventure book Tuttie was warned
But warnings for this girl are often poked fun at and scorned
She could not wait for the prissy librarians to leave
Knew now what fun shenanigan she had up her sleeve
She checked from the window to make sure they were gone
They are so persnickety, I wonder what planet they live on?
She opened that book almost immediately
A tiger jumped out and bit her hard on the knee
Chased her into another room where she locked it in
She ran back to the book and saw princesses giving a spin
Two knights and a dragon were rising high in the sky
A bear came toward her growling, she thought she might die
Tuttie ran to the kitchen with the beast at her rear
He stopped to devour a statue of a tiny deer
She spent the rest of the night locked up, praying for the prisses.
They came back the next morning, and were angry, there were no kisses.
Your love equaled a natural disaster
That hit me square in the heart
And all the damage that it caused
Completely tore my world apart
I was completely shutdown
There was no way I could operate
I could only shelter in place
The damage done was great
I didn't see any possibility
I would be able to recover
What assistance do you hand
To a broken hearted lover
The warnings I received
They showed up too late
I wasn't close to prepared
And the damages were great
Through this disaster I suffered
There was only one man who died
He drowned all by himself
In a pool of tears he cried
Satan did all he could to block the birth Divine
Through a cold and shameful ordination, the King emerged in time
Satan pulled Herod’s strings when pride’s a subtle art
A murderous decree from a murderous heart
What was going on in Mary’s mind, her thoughts her own
While Joseph’s trust was nearly overthrown
No palace welcomed Jesus, just a stable’s Dairy air
The fallen sought to harm Him, danger everywhere
Satan reveled in the same ruse that led Eve astray
Repeating, “Did God really say?” to lead hearts away
He slithered in with accusations, a clause of old
But the Nazarene’s arrival was prophecy foretold
That dragon waited ready to devour the Child
Yet Heaven’s warnings left the enemy beguiled
Defeated at the Cross his schemes undone
The Strong Man plunders darkness as victory is won
On that first Christmas night Satan Christ profaned
The serpent’s fate was sealed as God had ordained
Satan schemed in shadows, darkness was his shroud
He fought to halt the Light, arrogant and proud
He whispered things to Mary, stirred Joseph’s deep unrest
No welcome for the Child, no royal place to rest
The manger’s straw became the Newborn’s bed
While Herod’s rage and pride is dancing with the dead
Before the throne of God, the serpent raised decries
With twisted accusations, his purpose was his lies
But even as the dragon plotted, waiting for his chance
Mary’s Son was born, and darkness shivered in its stance
From birth to cross, the serpent’s schemes are undermined
For the Strong Man’s victory left the foe confined
So, Christmas saw the ancient snake, defeated in his cause
He writhed and railed the bitter way, behold, Satan’s clause
She appeared like a shadow in silk,
On 57th Street,
Where men lose themselves
Trying to impress ghosts.
Victoria — that was her name.
She smiled not with warmth,
But with calculation.
And I, foolish in my hunger for love,
Mistook her gaze for fate.
She asked if the Rolls-Royce was mine.
I told her it belonged to my boss.
She changed.
The voice that once danced now became dust.
“I’ll call you later,” she said.
But the silence that followed was louder than any goodbye.
She vanished into velvet clubs and champagne whispers,
Fell for a man named Cat —
A rising sun of flashing gold and fleeting power.
He wore his wealth on his skin
Like armor.
She followed.
She worshipped.
But when the roses wilted
And betrayal knocked,
He shot her —
Five times in her legs.
The very legs she used to chase fortune.
Her name filled the papers,
Not with love stories,
But with warnings.
Victoria the Gold Digger,
They called her.
She died on 15 October 2024,
Alone, unnamed by those who once bought her smiles.
She died not because she loved riches,
But because she forgot love.
Real love.
And I?
I was not just a driver.
I was the man who could’ve given her the world.
But she only saw the key,
Not the kingdom.
Now her story is a requiem,
A silent scream echoing in the hearts of broken men.
Not all that glitters is love.
Some glitter is grief waiting to happen.
To the men—
Measure love not by the sparkle in her eyes,
But by the silence when you have nothing.
To the women—
Gold can buy a dress,
But never a legacy.
The heart is small
The pain is deep,
The scars are fresh
The load is heavy
The body is weak
Yet life goes on,
With a smile and in pain.
There's a time of no tears
Nor shoulder to lean on.
Desperation amidst life's
Chaos and turmoil,
There's no solution
nor consolation.
Tick tack the clock click, then
Life dragged me through.
I'm in tuned with-
There's no difference;
Of pain and gain,
Of tears or smiles,
Nor life or death too.
Life, you've moulded me:
Pampered and tempered,
No excuses nor warnings,
Upon me that'll fall.
Everydays' a test and taste
Bittersweet is what makes my life is.
I'm honoured, teach me again,
I'll be a learned man,
Today shall be mine; a gift,
Tomorrow shall be thine.