Long Wholesale Poems
Long Wholesale Poems. Below are the most popular long Wholesale by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wholesale poems by poem length and keyword.
(Part Two, Continued)
The better choice of the two, I believe is clear enough even for the ignorant.
Everyday a new adventure in human psychology, pain, and suffering.
allowed the privilege to interact with an endless array of human variety.
This disease knows no race, gender, class, sexuality, or political affiliation.
afflicting far more than the deranged few, as some would have you believe
a stereotype of persons with addiction, to create distance from the disease
It is possible that every living human, knows, or is related to someone afflicted.
Denying to acknowledge their loved ones condition, is the definition of ignorant.
It seems only fitting that the cause of our modern day's massive rise in addiction
Heroin, so numerous in its effects, stronger than any before, and more addicting
Is the direct descendant of man's original addictive remedy, the Opium Poppy.
The worlds percentage of heroin addicted persons, passing epidemic proportions
nothing in our lifetimes has possessed this level of destructive power.
society barely managed to subdue and heal from the international Opium problem
The fact an implication of how difficult this new epidemic will be to stop
A terrible time to be an addict, but prosperous for entrepreneurial persons
Maybe this is my chance to increase my level of success in my current hustle
I have the ability, knowledge, and connections to be a true kingpin.
However, one constant continuously holds me firmly at my current level of success
Held back so long by addiction, I finally realize the extent of my enslavement
If I didn't have to support an immense and ever increasing drug habit
Long ago, I would have reached the level of extreme wealth and riches
I am embarrassed to admit the expense of my extremely costly past time
But, I will say with honesty the number spent resides in the millions
And, that is at distribution cost, purchasing quantity at a wholesale discount
Unaware and not wanting to know the true cost if bought at street price.
An entire lifetimes of earned yearly salaries, injected into my plump veins.
More money has gone into my veins, than into many millionaires bank accounts
If they hadn't been used to chase a short and fleeting sensation and feeling,
I would be among one of the richest individuals I know, without a doubt.
The government and its people stay on antagonistic sides
but what stimulates the rulers’ infidelity to patriotism
can easily be bought by any, over the counter.
They are desperately in need
of sailors to guide through the storm
yet for some reasons,
nurture a belief of so called anointed but empty vessels.
Structural human developments
siphoned by leadership’s exhaust pipes,
desecrating humanity’s sanctuary
for corruption to sell in wholesale.
The public treasury flows down
non-stop even bypassing its bladder,
as materialism and the quest for good life
break all of conscience’s administrative protocols.
Survival instincts undergo inflation
for civilization to suffer a recession
to this end, unity’s objections are overruled
by Nepotism and favouritism.
Social growth is blocked
and always in need of foreign catheter.
A direct current links poverty to the mindset and way of life,
giving a clear evidence of an economy
in desperate need of reconstructive surgery.
What values do I humbly choose
for a human body?
conscious mind?
transparent nature?
vulnerable spirit?
sentient soul?
What values do we choose
for a humanely embodied species?
for maleness?
for femaleness?
Yang and Yin
gain and strain values?
for enlightened strength
of resonance
and empowering resilient flow?
Do we choose these values more
or do we inherit them less?
Wholesale market values
learned from commodified skillsets
developed by those now physically gone
yet metaphysically present
indigenously wise forever?
Do we also choose,
as we mature in chosen v unchosen experience,
to extend
and embellish
and nuance
humane empowering memories
of divinely enlightened imaginations
stretching out
to embrace all EarthMother's cooperative
love life values?
And predative disvalues, rooted in hunger,
retributive dissociations, rooted in anger,
flowering traumatic injustice systems
authorized by straight and/or white and/or male
dominating caste privilege
And competing Either/Or misvalues,
choosing win v lose survivalist fear
of insufficient time
grace
compassion
pleasure
To value profoundly reconnecting
polycultural belonging,
ethical becoming together
in valued erotic bodies,
conscious sensory minds,
revaluing
recentering
reconnecting experienced hearts,
invaluable sentient souls,
root organic synergy systems
for universal enlightenment
left hemisphere dominant,
empowerment
right hemisphere unitarian
comforting wisdom
felt prominent
Ethos of past light memories
for future Earth-belonging power
humane-divine
natural-spiritual
sentient-conscious
organic-sacred
ecological-theological
resiliently-resonantly
valued nondualistic imaginations
Prejudicially favoring healthy values
we most wealthily imagine for a
resiliently erotic human body
Gaia hypothetical mind
unconditionally ethical bodhisattva nature
compassionate messianic spirit
humanely resonant environment
divine climate grace of belonging
sentient peace-questing soul.
Now having reached three score and ten
it sounds like fun to just look back
over the years that's gone by
it's a wonder all I've had on track
Born two days after Santa's day
adopted at 6 weeks by new mum and dad
I then was found to have a stammer
that was difficult for a mere lad
After school, I worked as an electrician
but I was found to be color blind
so found work in food wholesale
which mostly was an enjoyable find
In my mid-20s love met me straight
Jean being my real love so true
we got wed in '81, life was fab
sadly Jean passed away in '82
After being a widower for 9 years
found a real love in Christine once again
now being married all of 34 years
happy we've been, making a special blend
The greatest thing has been Jesus
meeting God's saviour changed everything
dying in my place on Calvary's tree
Jesus's eternal love makes my heart sing
Now in my retirement years
enjoying a life filled with peace and calm
having got contentment with every word
even to write rhyme like David's Psalms
(I thought having now passed 70 years it would be good to write my thoughts based on my true story in poetic form on how life has been with its ups and downs, hope you enjoy reading this personal piece. )
My darling, the sheer size of my love for you?
Gargantuan. There isn't enough space...
in my heart to contain it.
Wholesale; the cost of just how much?
Gargantuan. It's exceedingly expensive, you see;
worth more than a billion!
The litany of moments and memories shared with you?
Gargantuan. They're much too numerous...
to evaporate into nothingness.
The mountain I'd climb to pluck a star out of the sky for you?
Gargantuan. And I'd climb much higher, my love;
I'd reach heaven!
The dream that I'm dreaming, for you and me?
Gargantuan. And I'd dream...
forever and a day.
The sea that I'm sailing to meet you at the other end?
Gargantuan. I've sailed much too far...
to turn back, so please, wait for me!
Date written and posted: 01/06/2019
Clearly debriefed;
what if escalation.
Exhalation; don’t
relax. Remember
the facts. Living
dead flow on empty roads.
Remember the broad
streets of the mall,
where the dead lurk
and maul. Empty,
the shelves, two days
after malice of ice,
near and far. Skate
to the center, fall in;
what were you after?
Remember vegetables
don’t grow on shelves;
they arrive on big wheels.
One starts to question,
“where does good and plenty
come from?” A wholesale
disaster could be payday.
The living dead make their beds
under the fluorescent lights;
buzzing on open shelves.
There is plenty of room
for doom. I had to leave
the room. Breathing too loud.
Left with clothes on my back,
a card, a heart attack.
Grateful for provisions,
for meat in my freezer,
rice in my pantry,
cream of mushroom,
fried okra, lights,
water and electricity.
Electricity in Publix
unnecessary. Feet
moving, squeaky carts;
I’m darting out the doors.
Should I warn those
coming in. Should I
even look at them…
In the mid 80's, I took a job as a receptionist for a wholesale floral company.
Encased in a glass claustrophobic space, I answered their busy phone lines
as I gazed at the warehouse walls of greenery and the production staff scrambling to fill their daily delivery orders to florists and offices.
The days began early. We punched in at 6:00 am. I arrived in a mind fog,
downing my caffeine until my body's sluggishness wore off. It was a mindless
job and I stayed a mere six weeks at most but during that short window of time there, I had two very prophetic dreams involving co-workers.
The first and less memorable involved one of our delivery drivers. I dreamt that the police had caught him drinking while driving and he was subsequently terminated. About a week later, this dream came to fruition.
The second and must more poignant dream involved Jerry, a young flower
salesman in his late twenties. I dreamt that Jerry had fallen thru a sliding glass door. He was holding the hand of a small child, perhaps two or three years old.
It was very graphic as I saw the shards of broken glass scatter as they hit the floor. With in a few days, Jerry ended up in intensive care after a car accident with his truck. I was extremely rattled by the dream and also concerned about his welfare, although I barely knew him personally. I approached Heather, a secretary there and shared my dream with her. Heater told me that Jerry had been previously married and that he and his former wife had a child that passed at a very young age.
I might be mildly intuitive but I have never had such poignant dreams since that job. Is it plausible that I was being influenced by my green house environment there? Could it be possible that plants have always been open to communicating with us but that we humans remain mostly inattentive to their messages?
Daylight swerves around the road
Shouting from corner to corner
Morning comes alive
The traffic starts rolling
And people start flowing
I walk briskly up the road
And walk along Market Street
The layover vendors are just waking up
And some of them are escaping the night rush
A big broad woman hanging over her stall
With yam, banana, pumpkin and everything in the mix
shouts at the man behind her
As if she has somewhere urgent to go
“do you have any cologne?”
And the man calmly uttered,
“Mi no use cologne”
The body sweat drips form her face
And her grouchy voice sets the tone for the day
He looked at her with a subtle grin
While he tries to take in everything
She speaks loudly above the stench
And looked desperately for early morning shoppers
I walked down the bare empty street
With no emotional feelings
Just recuperating from yesterday’s pain
That made me feels a bit lame
I did not see anything to console me
And the pile of garbage lined up on the street
Was enough to disgust me
I kept walking along Market Street
With no single thoughts running about me
Only the morning I could see running in front of me
And I could hear a distant song
beckoning me to come along
The market people start to set out their stall
To catch the early morning shopper
They too were reminiscing over last night’s sales
That kept them waiting all night
It’s Sunday morning for heaven’s sake
What were you doing up so late
The angry man ferocious yawn
nearly blow up a terrible storm
The Chinese wholesale store
Lined the street from door to door
There is no local business here anymore
And it is very hard for the locals to sell their clothes
Oh I am thinking too hard,
no it’s just that I hate to see people suffering
They were selling in the market all night
And it’s not the price you want to pay
To earn you’re living all day
People come and go but the regular people
Shouts are part of the daily show
Come and shop with me.
Buy all you can from the people you meet on market street.
Kansas dawn, a new life just begun,
A street lumper's world, where muscles strained and spun.
Associated Wholesale, my first hard-earned dime,
Hombre!s hand that led me conquering space and time.
"Stone-Cold," my handle, forged in sweat and steel,
A girl among the men, a challenge I could feel.
They eyed me sideways, resentment in their gaze,
Hoping to break me, in those early, trying days.
They pushed and shoved, tried every petty trick,
To chase me off, and make my resolve grow thick.
But stubborn fire burned within my soul,
I wouldn't yield, I'd take complete control.
Slowly, surely, as the weeks rolled by,
Respect began to glimmer in their eye.
They saw my grit, my willingness to strive,
And grudgingly, they let my spirit thrive.
The ice began to melt, the tension start to fade,
A bond of brotherhood, in that rough trade, we made.
From rivals fierce, to comrades standing tall,
A street lumper's tale, where friendship conquered all.
Gratitude suffuses me today
at prospect to plumb the depths
of a fledgling friendship
(respecting fidelity to wife)
even one bound
within the parameters of cyberspace,
I feel courtesy your amazing grace
figuratively stitching omnipotent binding
with virtual satin and lace
proceeding cautiously to experience
belonging to human rat race.
Night and day, a thrashing
like an invisible whiptail
surge van hail,
doth swell me bosom
excruciatingly, doggedly blackmail
capriciously be-numbingly,
aggravatingly assail
mine conscience in
what paltry pale
capacity of this gamboling male,
I can "pay forward,"
whatever means shale
be moost apropos avail
to offset bewail
ling (internal psyche doth ale
hankering) against utter
lifetime (mine) peppered
with emotional, physical
and social destitution
bereft, viz fail
ling to maximize inspiration
reverberating as vibrant detail
lacking even justa minimum
desire to live
(visa vis no way
discover ring, nope nar even
"FAKE" king minuscule appeasement
of my body, mind,
and spirit triage during)
hell...shove (shelve) aside
such gloriously noble benighted role,
amidst upending folktale
re: King Arthur and His Knights
of the Round Table
futilely searching for holy grail,
where steadfast conviction
emboldens this heart and hale
spirited mindful,
sincere hard drive spurs
(neigh saying horse
sense of mine),
where ambition saddled
to air (dan sing) quailing,
yen propelling (yours truly),
with sincere humanitarian,
(i.e. blood driven)
philanthropic spiritual zeal,
I tried to unveil,
this reasonably rhyming thumbnail
sketch poetically versatile
within this spurious verse despite
any trials undermining travail
rather mine heart felt genuine
motive fueled by impetus
to contribute within e kale
logical, fizzy hollow gee, humanity,
with integrity, magnanimity,
and quality fervency,
while still adept, adroit,
agile, and alert,
(cuz America needs more lerts
to become great again)
ironically steel tougher than
nine inch rusty nails,
duh pleating ability dovetail
to bug (or wug) gee wholesale.
Adieu from Matthew Scott Harris
who tapped out this message
while holed up in his mancave
situated within Southeastern Pennsylvania.