Long Whom Poems
Long Whom Poems. Below are the most popular long Whom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whom poems by poem length and keyword.
As a woman I was taught to wear makeup to cover up. All of my scars because no man would, love me. As a woman I was taught not to, disrespect others. Whom have disrespect me. As a woman I wonder why a lot of women talk, badly about other women. As a woman I have come across. So much obstacles but I’ve accomplished, a lot. As a woman I was taught that. I only belong in the kitchen cooking for my husband, to be. As a woman I was taught to be polite. As a women I was taught to love myself first and foremost. As a woman I was taught. To cry is a good coping mechanism skills. As a woman I was taught that being different is, unique. As a woman I was taught to follow through, my dreams. As a women I was taught to. Stay my ground and not to be a pushover.
I heard they sent
for a royal fool
to make them laugh
until they cried
Now there's a pool
made of tears
& forced smiles
on the side
They're feeling blue
with red eyes
& black hearts
front yellow backs
You know the rules
of silly games
always produce
funny acts
It was a trap all along
meant to bait the
greedy flies
A pest will pest
til the end
attracting counter
to what is wise
Awakened rudely
by the fool
whom they assumed
was sound asleep
The crown it fits
a suited king
adorned from head
to rooted feet
The branch grows
full of leaves
& bears the weight
of coming fruit
Who knew the fool
could plant seeds
that would grow
through shallow roofs
You'll know the tree
by its fruit
& what it endured
and came to bare
Sometimes the weeds
are necessary
for what's the wheat
without its tares?
It's fair to say
what's in the cards
will soon require
a show of hands
Sometimes a fool
plays a fool
knowing what cards
are in its hand
Mother Nature, you are no true mother to me,
to anybody else or to anything really.
No mother would impose such harshness, such cruelty,
no mother would ever have such a heartless lack of empathy
for anything or anybody, guilty of being helpless and weak.
Even the strong whom you favor you dicipline mercilessly and harshly,
You are a mother who displays openly your wonder and beauty,
to everyone and everybody publicly for all to see,
then abuse your children privately in an uncontrolable fury.
No Mother Nature, you are no true mother to me,
and yet this son of yours can't stop loving you
and keeps loving you more devotedly.
Muhammad’s daughter danced through the night,
skirts smoothly swirling with her moving.
Cool colors coalescing under moonlight,
iridescent eyes sweetly soothing.
Many who sought her had pedigree.
All whom Prophet Muhammad rebuked
awaiting sign of her destiny,
silent suitor of proper repute.
Ali sold his shield to pay the mahr.
She danced her way into history.
She earned her place, proved the Shining Star,
in doing so, fated her family.
Muhammad’s daughter danced through the night,
skirts smoothly swirling with her moving.
Cool colors coalescing under moonlight,
iridescent eyes sweetly soothing.
Allahu Akbar.
February 14th
that special day
must i say i love you
in that special way?
nay
my witnesses undoubtedly declair
that there must be something there
such as the sun
who says i cast a shadow over you
and the moon who says
my love must be true
and each and every falling star
whom i've wished upon
my love where ever you are
the rose who's splinder
giveth it self to thee from me
and the chocolates in a
heart shaped box
saying "i do not love you little,
but a lot."
and February 14th
that special day
must i say i love you
in that special way?
"nay"
but 365 days of the year
you should hear
"I love you"
whispered in your ear
52 times, once for each week
my lips should touch you
on the cheek
7 days, seven days a week
i'm humbled and i am weak
24 hours of each and every day
my love is your love
not just holidays
She is but my chosen dream;
I was under love and I saw her heart;
My love for her was a secret thought;
Her spirits eyes were almond shape;
He arms were raised high as she embraced;
~
God's tenderness surfaced around her soul;
Her mind was untainted she was reborn;
As I glaze upon her praise, I ask God for her name;
~
Now I am heaven bent on being with her;
A life together with her we'll praise our God;
And Jesus is all that's left;
God has given us both a kiss, His breath;
~
Thank-you Father for your daughter;
My arms and hands raised in earnest prayer;
My love for her still a secret thought;
Oh, God Father I thank you for whom she you brought;
1/18/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Listening in silent despair
Ambivalence
Numb as she walked
Bound by time was far from freedom
I wouldn't change her everything
Despite my cries
All is left behind me
All is gone and All is lies
Nodding smiles in Jester's torture
Nothing escapes the fallen tree
Close my eyes in hollows hiding
Desperation saddening
Turn another pageless chapter
In the mirror
The horror is me
Splintered in her head forever
Were those words so deafening
And with the wind the sounds of violence
It's paranoia that follows Me
I've become whom she's decided
~Terrified
She holds my scream
Desolation sounds inviting
And so it burns ~
~This Broken Dream
Severely withdrawn as a doggone lad...
I wanted someone to hear me shout for help
as recently recalled
when yours truly a little barking whelp.
After conversing with Amélie Beth
(yesterday February 26th, 2021)
yes, the same sibling diagnosed
with nodule on her right lung
chatted with said family member.
Her brother (yours truly), could not sleep
last night/early this morning
what would ewe expect
this rambunctious poet do... count sheep?
Okay... wool ye go ahead and lambaste me!?
Ordinarily counting backwards from one hundred
helps trigger rem memorable cycles
(never if ever rarely reaching zero -
cipher, nought, the big goose egg...)
usually does the magic, (albeit cheap trick)
constituting one garden variety supertramp,
who within blink of eyelash nods off to dreamland
succumbing and submerging into subconscious.
More so the latter half
(regarding unsainted) days
of mein kampf
lived more satisfactorily
meaning emotions shared
between yours truly
and family members.
Suddenly important for me
(at approximately 743.999 months
athwart planet Earth)
to finagle acknowledgement
constituting care and concern
regarding welfare of loved ones.
Rather, a necessity to unleash
pent up sentiments activating
"Damn the torpedoes,
full speed ahead!"
An injustice to myself
and deprivation to recipient, i.e. Amélie
(who accidentally, inadvertently,
and unwittingly triggered feelings
of grievousness, ire, joy... )
to act adamant and withhold
for whom the bell tolled
valuable unpleasant turmoil
or heavenly bliss within
mine psychological state
most therapists and/
or self actualized individual
would concur if polled
wisest, loveliest and healthiest
personal choice to share
lest internalized heart wrenching dilemma
compromise palpable mutual
(of Omaha) kith thing catharsis
freeing restrained pent up angst
kinship therapeutic as “Wild Kingdom,”
whereby respective psyche
constituting uber brotherly spirit
doth lyft among soundcloud
shutterflying amidst
imagined lilies of field
engendering region knolled
king dome united, extolled
and linkedin courtesy nirvana.
Estar Go on in heaven
Walk bare footed on present earth
Estar whom God created
He you made you ever yet so beautiful
Most Valuable HUMANITY THAN RUBIES AND GOLD-
Estar you are worth more than rubies and gold
you're precious more
than a diamond nothing on Earth
can purchase your soul
God has made you completely whole
you are far worth more
than rubies and gold
you're more valuable your worth
Most Valuable HUMANITY THAN RUBIES AND GOLD-
is forever cure
and my Father you are beyond riches your story Estar Go
All humanity worth more than rubies and gold
Most Valuable HUMANITY THAN RUBIES AND GOLD-
Selah
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
6/27/23
The wandering lonesome roam
About the early morning streets;
And on evening avenues.
Those forgotten feral few,
Seeking meals they cannot buy
‘Mongst the refuse of the day.
Those great unwashed in tatters,
Of whom it does not matter,
Limp empty toward their lairs
Wearing faces of despair
Seeking out a junkyard fire
Or dark place beneath a stair.
Half-bent, with rancid odor,
One stands upon the corner
With a battered coffee can
In a grimy, outstretched hand.
Strollers stare past his rheumy eyes,
Searching from their sunken sockets,
And walk by with withheld sighs
Lest guilt should pick their pockets.
Compassion costs a quarter
For the man upon the corner.
But it’s cheaper without the price
If they can avoid his lice.