Long Weekly Poems
Long Weekly Poems. Below are the most popular long Weekly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weekly poems by poem length and keyword.
I SHOT THE PREACHER MAN™
The David in me shot the Goliath in the PreacherMan.
Arrant debacle of the anointed one
And dark child claiming identity of God's son.
Am just a little boy and not being punitive
But defiantly cantankerous and emotive,
No regret for my actions but now a fugitive,
Fugitive of my own premeditated atrocity
instead of the uproar of the city
Or the thought of the men in black
Even though it cost peace and keeps me on my track.¹°
Couldn't wait to eradicate that unwanted page,
Only the deed can placate a long rage.
Rage of being a molestation victim for years
And I couldn't even confide in my jesty peers.
You were the bully that wouldn't let go
Even many times when I said "No"
You still continued ripping apart my body and soul.
You were a shepherd to me in the sanctuary
But a wolf outside the congregation armoury
To defile me timelessly, ignoring the Law, what an effrontery²°
I should never be an "entrance" for no one,
you caused me pain physically, made me burn.
Sunday morning, on pulpit, you're the "light of the world"
But weekly when Mom leaves me with you for a word,
you're the darkness and fire eating-up my soul.
PreacherMan once said "we'll all reap what we sow".
You taught me about David & Goliath in service
Then, I began seeing you as Goliath, as you stir up malice.
Mom named me David, I was so little at 7.
I imagined how someone like you'll make heaven.
Child molestation wasn't what my parents bargained for.
You've been a thorn in my flesh since 4
Till you orchestrate the truncation of your own life,
leaving behind your innocent children and wife.
So just like David in the Bible I sort bravery,
even without stones, sling or any armoury.
Soliloquizes and quizzed my memory,
"in case he dodges a stone entering his eye socket,
he definitely wouldn't do same for a bullet".
I had no choice since mother wouldn't heed my voice
and father's never around but only sends toys.
The David in me shot the Goliath in the PreacherMan.4²
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © December 15th, 2021.
In a few weeks I will forget that I had a wonderful summer tan.
It will be a stretch to remember what the beach felt like.
The rich lush flowers will turn brown, and their heads will shrivel up.
But for today, I am going to enjoy the last two days of summer.
The lilacs have been gone a few months, but I have crepe myrtles.
They are gloriously beautiful in fluffy heads of hot pink and lavender.
Hummingbirds are circling their red feeder, waiting their turn.
Squirrels have found a nut and are fighting over it. Not yet! I tell them.
Kansas is enjoying a seventy-one degree day. I could put my feet in the pool.
But I do not have to, and they are comfy. Maybe it will be warmer tomorrow.
Barely wore swimming suit this year; I lament this as days are running away.
Had no bonfire, for my friends are all social-distancing. Regret this too.
This summer has felt like the Twilight Zone. Only saw my grandchildren once.
Used to see them weekly. They are growing up, so that is okay; I understand.
A yellow leaf falls off my walnut and lands at my feet. I love watching it land.
Six more leaves drop. Not yet! I implore them, not ready to give up summer.
Life is full of oddities
Which can give it variety
And every now and then
Even cause soe anxiety
He was a man of character.
He trod his own path,
Kept his undies in the fridge
And his coal in the bath.
When she moved in she,d
Found that rather strange
But she hoped in time
She could help him change.
Her background after all
Wasn’t all that posh
She could just about manage
With her weekly strip wash.
And every other month
He’d clear a path from the door
As he shovelled all the coal
Onto to the bathroom floor,
And he very quickly learned
Rinsing the bath was a must
Otherwise her bath water was
Full of floating coal dust
And so they’d proceded amicably
Until things got a rather strained
She’d tripped on a lump of coal,
One ankle being badly sprained.
But, theres always compromise
If you’re willing and you”re able
And he started storing the coal
Under their kitchen table.
He found it rather strange
That she now bathed every day
But finally accepted that
It was her own peculiar way
And he so very quickly went,
And changed his own attitude
When night after night, after night
She eagerly displayed her gratitude.
Thus they progressd to
A happy happy life
And very soon after he
Took her to be his wife.
The moral of this little tale
You can walk your own path
But if you want to please your bird
Dont keep your coal in the bath.
Paul Le Mat, the guy
Who drove the yellow roadster
in American
Grafitti starred in the show,
Aloha Bobby & Rose,
With friend Manuel
Padilla Jr. who played
The little kid in
The Tarzan series of the
Mid-sixties as Jai, Scarface,
Also, Grafitti,
Wanted to cash their weekly
Studio paychecks,
But they knew of the hotel
'DO NOT CASH' memo, but they had
Known of this sucker,
Behind the desk chiefly named,
Tom, so I did cash
it and made two new friends for
the longest two minutes, e'er.
***Manuel, who was two years older than me, has since passed but Paul, who was in his early thirties at the time, is still kicking at 73 years of age.
Date 08/28/2019
HOWMANYSYLLABLES.COM
57577, 57577, 57577, 57577
The words left my mouth but they weren't words I said,
"she'll be the paper again this time next week"
confused they asked why and I said "she'll be dead"
those words came out but I didn't choose to speak
The next day was her birthday drunk she decided to drive
they had hid her car keys because they know what she's like
but she found those keys they didn't know she went for a ride
she had only just passed her test when she crashed and she died
The paper was weekly and we all mourned the loss
the next day, another crash, another girl paid the cost
both girls were teenagers too young to have lost
leaving their families heartbroken in shock
When the paper was published the front page reports grief
both girls were pictured, both crashed cars and deceased
my previous premonitions were told after to a daft disbelief
but this time for some reason it was spoken and received
Now they turn pale as if ill as they look toward me
freaked out as if I'm a possessed demon they see
they seek understanding the same one I seek
I'm terrified to the core unsure why I'm unique
I know what you know and I know nothing else
I've asked it to stop as I don't get why it's dealt
I cannot explain it because I don't know myself
but I know these premonitions are no evil spell
I hope they are good, in fact I prey I don't hope they're not evil corrupt,
because of course if they are, it's really quite simple, I'm Royally F......D!
Frozen by uncontrollable, invisible angst
thriving on my anxiety
Motions to emotions of anchors, wrapped chains hold me down
Unable to escape for freedom
The body lays,
drowning in breath, air that is poison
Movements that were once freely by choice of living in normalcy withered down to fragments of imagination
Force to walk from safety into depths of the pandemic for green that dulls out dollar signs for weekly survival
While vaccines are far and few the battle to contain is only fleeting
Variants began to thrive as half the population lay in a lie
Death comes....surrounds us all
My mind says to flee and the body agrees but the greed in America ties me down to the depths of hell to earn green in order to serve the affluent that offers a little piece of survive ability by paying a sum
The mind shatters-
with winds blown from the nose of the selfish
Chin guards adorn from selfish souls to those who walk across stores adorn in there full face not blocked by life saving mask
Forever blue in lost days lost life to the lies that killed thousands of thousands
Mother Nature ran a want ad
In this year's Farmers Almanac
Seems these days she's wearing thin
With the progress made by modern man
She needs a little extra help
With the here and there and there about
The whole earth needs a good sweeping
From the ocean floors to the river streams
From high above to down below
All of the trash that has been thrown
With all the extra dust around
She can't keep up with the dusting down
That is why she placed the ad
In hopes of getting help with that
Resumes started pouring fast
From North to South, East to West
So many from around the globe
Who would have guessed, who could have known
There were so many that were keen
In wanting to keep the Planet clean
Right then and there on the spot
She hired them all, the entire lot
She gave them brooms, their own dust pans
Sent them all throughout the land
To every crevice, to every crook
To give the world a spit shine look
So many helpers worked that day
Into the yawning wee hours late
Until the earth was spic and span
Every water splash, every grain of sand
From underneath to over top
Everyone had cleaned it up
Bi-weekly now she runs the ad
Inside the Farmers Almanac
CANDLES&NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth.
A viewpoint from childhood scene,
growing up at sixteen,Beech green.
Barnyard fences with gates that connect
Clean courtyards that are daily swept
Hay bales and straw soften the floor
Accommodation is all that and more
Water trough throughout the day kept fresh
The stalls are never in any mess
Let out and exercised morning and afternoon
Brushed and braided completes the daily groom
Fed crispy apples, carrots and grain
The feeds are tasty and never plain
Twice weekly taken out for a ride
Canter and gallop all in the stride
Stalls are entered for the night
Safe and secure until morning light
All awake to start a new day
Some are eager to get out and play
Watching from above due to my height
The whole barnyard is in my sight