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Long Lyric Poems | Long Lyric Poetry

Long Lyric Poems. These are the most popular long Lyric by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lyric poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

Different Dream

After a hard day at work I come home
Hear my boy rapping the words to his headphones
Every bleep comes another bleep
As he keeps dancing to the beat
Come upstairs and barge through the door
Say to him, "Boy whatcha listenin' to that for?"
As I rip it out of his ears
Turn around and look in the mirror
Get ya head outta the gutter son
You talk to ya mother with that tongue?
Ought'a lean you down and wash your mouth soap
Teach you a lesson and just barely make you choke

Dad, you don't understand
This is me, this is who I am!

Boy, you freeze it right there
Just so I know we're good and square
I'm your father, sit down when I say so
This is home, this is where the green grass grows
Can't be the one to follow you where you go
Can't take you as is and just tie a little bow
Around it and be happy
You ain't what I expected you'd be
After all this hard work to bring home the bacon
Just to come home to see the fuss you making!?

Imma be big and travel the world,
Be famous and get hooked with any girl
I'm tired of this rice 'n' beans, I wanna taste some of that green!

Stop it child, you making a scene, a mockery of ya ma and me
Do yourself a favor and dream a different dream

 The strings are for those with charm
And fame are for those holding cards
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream
Billionaires are cowards in disguise
Their careers built upon money and lies
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream

I remember when you was little
Your mind was like some twisted riddle
Rapping the lyrics
To your idols, Snoop Dog and Jay-Z
Acting like you knew what they meant
But boy, you could barely read
Spittin' rhymes don't put a roof over ya head
Or clean the dirty sheets in your bed
All those fancy clothes don't give ya fame
just brings your family to shame
Look at you playing life like it's a game
Joining all those gangs just to bleed
Gettin' high and smokin' weed

Dad, it ain't like that
I'm not some filthy rat
Planting my seed wherever
Imma stay true forever
Build myself upon lyrical tether
Striving to be as authentic as leather
Come on dad, can't we get it together?

Your grandpa was born and raised in the meadows
No Internet, no microwave, just planting corn rows
But right now the grass is as green as it's gonna get
And if you ain't got that through ya head yet
As your pops I'm really quite upset

 Take these words right from my mouth
And give 'em wings to fly south
Or I will run from this house like the ratatouille mouse
Tired of this cheese I want something more
The birds and the bees aren't what I'm looking for
I don't wanna die like everybody else
Just put in a hole and call it a grave
I don't wanna die with nothing to my name
If I'm not looking up I'm going south
You can scream and cuss at me with ya sailor's mouth
I'm still leaving and I'm taking the dangerous route

The strings are for those with charm
And fame are for those holding cards
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream
Billionaires are cowards in disguise
Their careers built upon money and lies
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream

Here I am, standing in this trailer
In your eyes I'm a failure
For wanting to travel the world like a sailor
From Beverly Hills to New York City
At this point I don't even care if you're with me
I may have augmented my hopes a bit too high
But I was tired of looking through telescopes, that habit can die
But dad look at me now
No longer in a small town
Can't be modest I have to boast
I'm traveling the world from coast to coast
In everybody's head is my riffs
And I wish you were here to see this
Swallow your pride long enough to shed a tear
Remember what you used to say, "Turn around, look in the mirror"...?
I wasn't no golden child and you weren't the perfect dad
But come on now, that's a thing of the past
You can ditch your bacon, eggs and Jimmy Dean
Live in luxury in your fields of green
Come on dad, won't you dream this different dream
with me?



NOTE: Words in italics are from the son's perspective, words in normal font are from the father's perspective, and words in bold is the chorus line.

I'm not sure where the idea came from. I was on a camping trip, heading back home, and all the sudden this whole elaborate story came to me and I started writing it all down on a notepad (back then I didn't have my Kindle Fire).


Long poem by Louis Borgo | Details |

Why Question No Question Question Is Now

I was born on death on arrival on birth. 7:01 Am  one of the coldest days  to record
I battle for my life for every beat to every breath I was born premature.
Being born premature I was born with learning and mental illness and despite 
Of the disadvantage I broke barriers o f stereotypies and prejudices that would follow.

Why Question that it is a recession does it mental illness rise? 
No Question the research from
ashbournenewstelegraph co ukHomeRecession worst, blog.atoshealthcaretagof
recession on mental health,thefiscaltimes, RecessionsSilent Mental Health... would include That facts does lie, 
Question is now who is listening. (those R website just without dot com )

Why Question in the headline it’s the mental ill that’s making headlines
 No Question they all ask for help put the system ignored or failure report those demeanor read between the lines…
 Question is now could that have been your family or friends so why make fun of the mental ill to feel inferior? 

Why Question they say that people with too much education is at a higher risk of become mental ill?
No Question they say that mental ill can’t have weapons if so then why is it 1.5 million roughly in the military that has sometime mental ill with weapons?
 Question is now that Bill Clinton stated on Cnn that gun laws will never go away because (forgive me if I miss quoted) the voters don't hold the people they voted in office to there word to do so.

Why Question that a person got to do a violent act before you determine that there mental ill and if that is so why do we have prisoner that could be mental ill
 or, is it one in same being and state from a television host “to do violence you must be some type of mental ill” it would be simply, if he ask the first question I stated then fumble with his words No question my doctor said if you are depression more then three day then in there book a person is mental ill 
Question is now why have smoking been written in constitution or some stated and you know what type of smoking I’m talking about so who is to blame.

Why Question that the medicine they give us that can make you aggressive, more violent and sometime even suicidal but when go to sue them it was not enough evidence to prove but ten years later you can’t sue because the statue of limitation but time has ran out
No Question a comedian made a joke about the same thing was it a joke or was it a movement you tell me much luv to him! 
Question is now is if a person life is more valuable  then a buck if not why is  manufaction  a G over one prescription not knowing all side effects.

Why Question what is the debt ceiling as well as the glass ceiling seems to be something to keep minority from stepping in the next class because it all revolved around money and who is usually get short stick? (the poor)
 No Question food stamps being cut, health care require and we have been in a war or wars since I been born I guess my generation was a victim of society 
no wonder inmate believe government own them. Now question does this facts lie? act lies if so why is history books rewritten in college every semester? Question it now

Why Question in the bible it speaks to the effects things will never be heard or seen would happen
(1 st Corinthians 2:9) I paraphrase that….. No question Jeremiah 8-9 once again paraphrasing  the people that became of power and knowledge used it in the wrong way and god later destroy the city
 Now question god spoke lyrically and God creation us in his own imagine and I have research that a person can come out of depression naturally but does the doctor tell you that?

Once again it is a small percent of mental ill that does violence and most time they are the victims. I have giving my life to science I have giving my blood for 10 years and im only 25 years old my doctor told me by year 2020 it should be cure for my disease being born which such a disability may you know I gave my life to science so child like me will never know of harass words to endure.....

I will probably die before 30 or 40 because of malpractice and my disease Why question, No Question, Question is Now what is the definition of crazy and that of mental ill 
My last statement is, I am the not only person that speak out for mental illness October is mental ill awareness would you like to say you spoke for reason? better yet chance.... 
( a poet and still running)


Long poem by Louis Borgo | Details |

My In Heritage

To know your history is to know your literature a lesson to learn, which will Stand the test of time and what one founds of their in heritage no matter how enduring and grim it may seem it something you should embrace- I came from a small city with big roots and routinely I was ask “where are you from”, especially from girls, if it wasn’t that it he thinks he cutie? And I’m asking why I would say something like that. Or He thinks him smart, God!!! I’m just answer the teacher question? But when I got older, older woman told me they probably think that ascent was sexy and I’m thinking where in high school what do they know about sexy? Man is her computer seat warm? America woman I just don’t understand them? I wonder what they do if they heard me speak a few difference language at same time? Thank god I’m quite because it not like they can read my mind. But it got me thinking from and questioning My Roots- What I found was the name Borgo had many difference Ethnicity & meaning with it as well as nationalities and that Borgo is Small Island between France and Italy. And if history may not mention it was a Borgia who captured Napoleon? How do I know where did it take place? BorgoBaby- No wonder I like Caribbean woman and it is this one that get my heart beat beating up to 400 beats per seconds if that is possible I can’t say it is a forbidden love but what I will say is breaking the ice and melt when think out loud? And yes she knows my name but why ask not why but why are some lyrics so deep my dear? Remember some old friends asking don’t you make beats? As I have some bread and tea. And that Bourbon is a drink, a Pecan Pie and a Street I’m thinking man if I have girlfriend What date it would be- Then I dig deeper and found the prime sources that seem to let to these events the Borgia or borja married into royalty which happen to be Louisa Borgia who married Philp De Bourbon or Philip V of Spain. He was rejected as King Louis legitimate son because born out of wedlock but later accepted but Philp never forgave and where he could have been both king of France and Spain he was just the king of Spain. Question I ask do any one know today the real reason why France has no nationality? Hurtfully to write or hear but i heritage mean full name as should other take to one, I have heard rumors that true bloodlines of nations of Kings that don’t rightfully take the throne it is a reason for that but not my place to say the way history is written is just to say to remember men wrote history but literature holds another tell? Who can tell the differences, but one question for god I always ask Why so much war my lord, I truly feel like a man without a country and Just walking away- I myself never came from money I start literally from nothing but as I got older I was given legitimate connection legitimate ideas and principals and the understanding of wealth but so trying of spending night and days with no day off of a seven day week wonder if I can make those principals work for me as sick as I am there are reason undefined why I do this things and money is not the endorsement my life is more complication then eye may receive to capture but if you listen you learn more than just hand written if you get the drift- I was never told of my in heritage put as one will it something like a scare or tattoo I had to found to adjust to my nick name is “Jason” but my full name is Louis Antonio Borgo III as I’m about to fall to sleep and lost all aim of conscience I see a email with my full name spell out in Ancestry.com question how did they know I was search for them and if I ever be accepted from this other half as I am a man literally without a country and in love with French woman more than American the phone rings and a woman from Canada called speaking French I drop the phone and finally I fall to sleep and As I sleep dreaming could anyone imagine wanting to go home but where? Remembering the ringing noise of girls ask ” where are you from”...


Long poem by William J. Jr. Atfield | Details |

What I wanted What I got

What I wanted !- What I got !

I wanted so much from you Moneca, my Dear,
your heart, passion, soul, your love without fear.
I always knew- for me – it wasn’t in you to give,
to accept me, consider me - with this I have to live.
I also knew, that for you, I am just above nothing, 
nothing in the way of a man you’d be desiring
and in your heart, your soul – for me there is no fire 
no flames to ignite – except for my funeral pyre.

I know, that somehow, I will have to let you go.
How to do so ?, I have to tell you, I do not know 
for you are burned so deeply into this old heart.
To set free, get you out of me, I know not were to start.

You set fires, and lights flashing under me.
You opened my eyes once more, to let me see 
and grow – now it feels, you have set me free
and with me, no longer want to be.

I remember the very first time I took you to dance,
A spontaneous act I thought might lead to romance.
That moment, experience clearly stated “ not a chance ”.
From the first, many moments that could have been, lost 
for me, it has been of heartbreaking, horrendous cost.
For it has all come to not, nothing has come to fruition
as my beliefs, my desires – all lived without intuition.

I though I knew and had an understanding of you.
I wanted so much for my love to be, so you too
could get passed all that life, fate, karma never gave 
and to know Moneca, that with me to the grave,
 you will be special, all ways and always in my mind.
A lady like you – I am not likely to ever again find.

I live with all my failures and with your indifference.
I live with the regret that I was unable to fill all 
the empty spaces in your life with what you needed.
I am sorry that I had no frame or reference,
no mentor, no higher power upon which to call.
I am sorry that I had not seen, had not heeded
your messages, lived up to be the man you looked for
and truly sorry, I am now on the outside of your door.

I truly wish Moneca, that I had made you feel special,
that I would have been able to have brought you through 
and past all that has been the forces that closed you up.
I am truly sorry that you never would see in me
the capacity for being the man you wanted me to be. 

I can not extricate you from my thoughts, my mind.
It seems you have been in my heart for all of time, 
having permeated my life today and all my lives gone,
by the way, seems to be the lyrics of my melancholy song.
I was totally locked into you from the first time we met, 
the day your beauty’s graced these eyes and yet
five years slipped by, with but a few words, and now
I feel, my time has run out, my life’s clock has stopped
ticking, you have let it run down and I do not know how to rejuvenate, rewind, bring back time that was dropped.

I am sorry that I did not give to you, all that I wanted 
to share with you, all that this life of mine could offer.
I know Moneca, as long as I hang on to the memories,
the experiences I have enjoyed with you, my soul will die,
a little with the passing of each and every day,
until there is nothing left, as you and I fade away,
being nothing more then names in my books of history,
and the waning light, in the emptiness of that great night
that becomes loss, the eraser of this life and consciousness

You know Moneca, I will love you until end days,
be your friend, carry you within my heart always,
toughing my soul until we step from this plane
and onto others, and as pure light, us twain
shall travel as great waves, as sonic vibrations
through, to all unknown dimensions 
that surround us, you being a part of me.
This I tell you Monica, for it will be - for all eternity !
These scraps, these specks, these flakes of my thought, 
my feelings Moneca, are at an end, this is all I’ve got !
I apologize for anything written that may not 
represent all the facts or some truth. 
I realize that you may perceive me as uncouth. 
Know my Dear, that I will no longer bore or trouble you.

                      Love
                                     Bill,

 B. J. “A” 2
January 18th 2009


Long poem by Bob shank | Details |

History's Sad Song

History's Sad Song (Revised)

throughout my life
I've heard many a sad song
relating to the lyrics
that seemed to play too long

way back during the Crusade
where religious debt was paid
by the bloodlust of so many
could not ye God spare any
as hundreds of thousands died
over manmade religious pride
these wars continue today
justified by words we pray

Oh, when the saints go marching in
....(Sang by the Kingston Trio)

they hailed from every nation
to defy the written proclamation
prohibiting ownership of God's creation
many fought with such bravery
to continue the practice of slavery
another man's misery
has always been the key
for the powers that be
and who cares about equality
when Kingdoms can be built for free

A Change Is Gonna Come 
........(Sam Cooke) 

but as I study history
one thing has occurred to me
there really isn't any change
Hitlers, just go by different names
as we remember the Holocaust
Sodom and Gomorrah was never lost
but found within the soul of man
burnt crisp, the devil's plan

Momma's Don't Let Your Babies Grow up to be Cowboys - Waylon Jennings 

everybody's got a gun
buying ammo by the ton
myths of old western days
seem like broadway plays
acted out in the streets
a daily performance society repeats
gunsmoke, and the ponderosa
replaced by La Costra Nostra

"Wake Up Everybody"
by Harold Melvin and The Bluenotes

John F. Kennedy died 
a shocked nation cried
what many could never figure
is if Oswald pulled the trigger
while Marilyn slept in the grave
Martin fought for the slave
yes even hate was still around
as Eldridge went underground
Malcolm X was gunned down
with bullets from the nation
to ease Elijah's aggravation

and the temptations sang "Cloud Nine"

another Kennedy has died
Ted needs a place to hide
only not within the bottle
nor behind the throttle
congress opens its doors
to pageboys and lobbyist whores
but they did put a man on the moon
right before Joplin sang her last tune
who would have thought "me and bobby magee"
would be over shadowed by the Manson Family
the blind leading the blind, neither could see
Jim Jones and the Guyana tragedy

Even Earth, Wind, and Fire, "kept their head to the sky"

praying for an end to a senseless war
that no one knew what they were fighting for
our "vietnam" seems up to date
while nixon got caught up in watergate
whitehouse rose "bushes"we love to hate
Lennon left the beatles ill-willed
never to "imagine" he'd be shot and killed

and War Sang, "slipping into darkness",
followed by "the world is a ghetto"

Even "the greatest" shall soon fall 
but in defeat they stand tall
unlike the berlin wall
the thriller in manilla
refused to be a killa
as rap became the new wave
and crack became the new crave
along with video games
just another war, with different names

Teena Marie sang "Deja' Vu"

Nerd Gates becomes the new Donald Trump
while history gets taught by Forrest Gump
a great poet died at the age of twenty-five
though many claim Tupac is still alive
and I saw Elvis and Bruce Lee too
singing the blues with you know who
then came the white bronco on the loose
nobody could manuever like the Juice
except maybe Bill when he said please
a simple word that brought Monica to her knees

and Snoop Doggy Dog sang, "Ain't nuttin' but a "G" thang baby

Beepers became replaced by the cell phone
on 9/11 no one could call home
as war and mother nature ripped us a new ass
even Martha joined the inmate class
now she's out, but Oprah's still the queen
sorry Latifah, you know what I mean
the mother drowned her five children in a tub
she got sent to a Psychiatric health club
the ruling was it's a new sickness
my head screws off from such thickness
so many changes and hypocrisy
I guess that's what they call democracy

and Queen sang, "We are the Champions, 
of the World"

throughout my life
I've heard many a sad song
relating to the lyrics
that seemed to play too long

Bob Shank


Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

Sinister Thoughts

Keep your head up above the surface
Don't lose grip or you'll soon fall on your 
face
My eyes search for any signs of 
weaknesses
And my mouth devours everything in sight

You're flipping out like some mad hornet
sinister thoughts swarms around me like 
bees 

Shrouds of darkness blankets me, but I 
feel solitary and cold with them on
Sinister thoughts haunt and taunt me 
countless times
Bittersweet solitude attacks me and now 
I'm caged up in fear
Your malicious words inflict pain upon 
me...you are the magnet of destruction
You're inviting such chaos...it blows my 
mind into smithereens 
Sing to me your lyrics of lament and 
pleasure 
Don't you try to make me suffer....

Sinister thoughts....
Don't push me down with your cruel 
gravity
Sinister thoughts...
Don't whisper words of woe and don't 
shoot me down by your poison
Sinister thoughts...
It's not right how you treat me
Like dirt on the filthy ground 
Positive thoughts -
Deliver me from bondage and avarice
Sinister thoughts...
Don't burn me up with your negativity and 
fury
Be considerate and I'll forgive you 

The whirling wind has unexpectedly driven 
me away from you
Wait a moment.......
My heart's breaking 
I'm deepening in my ruins
 I'm deepening in my ruins 
I feel like my life's at stake
Too late. . . .
sinister thoughts has beat me to the finish 
line
I'm so feeble and so scared out of my wits
I'm so delicate...I can shatter easily
You brought me to an unsafe place
Now, I feel like a failure...a mere disgrace
sinister thoughts 
persuade me to delete myself from the 
face of the world
I feel terrible for thinking the way I do
it feels like an everlasting flu
Anticipation zips through my veins
Sinister thoughts...
don't make me your next victim 

Sinister thoughts....
Don't push me down with your cruel 
gravity
Sinister thoughts...
Don't whisper words of woe and don't 
shoot me down by your poison
Sinister thoughts...
It's not right how you treat me
Like dirt on the filthy ground 
Positive thoughts -
Deliver me from bondage and avarice
Sinister thoughts...
Don't burn me up with your negativity and 
fury
Be more flexible and I'll give you a chance

Don't kill me with your disease...
That doesn't put my heart at ease
You provoke me to anger...
You are putting our lives in danger
Give me relief and strength to carry on
Just sit back and relax until the arrival of 
the dawn
Are you still out to torture me so?
Don't you love my passionate glow?
Protect me from the harmful sun rays
We've been separated for several days

Sinister thoughts....
Don't push me down with your cruel 
gravity
Sinister thoughts...
Don't whisper words of distress and don't 
pin me down by your cancer
Sinister thoughts...
It's not right how you treat me
Like dirt on the filthy ground 
Positive thoughts -
Deliver me from bondage and avarice
Sinister thoughts...
Don't burn me up with your negativity and 
fury
Be glad and thank God and I'll look up to 
you 

The hours of night makes me feel mixed 
emotions
I'm still adapting to the difficult motions
We meet eye to eye, but I won't lie
That I've felt this coldness in your heart, 
waiting to rip my dreams apart 
As if they're worthless goals 
Please don't hurt me anymore
You should take things slow again
 just don't make me feel alone and sore

I'm attempting to act my age and start to 
mature
My head is resting on my comfy pillow
Appears to me that these sinister thoughts 
have vanished.  . .    .   .


Long poem by William J. Jr. Atfield | Details |

THE FACE OF DEATH

THE FACE OF DEATH

   On Monday March 14th 2011, at 1:05 PM, I believe I was looking into the face and eyes of Death, as we drove to Her, school .

   I think I heard the voice and sounds of Death, on Monday March 14th 2011 at 1:15 PM as She tried to direct me past the entrance to Her class. 

   I felt the hands of Death, touch me as She turned away, leaving me standing there, heart in hand, bleeding profusely, no response, as she turned Her, back and walked away, not looking back . 

   3:40 PM and as I sat in the Henderson Mall, heart broken, feeling the pangs of regret, the Grim Reaper, cut into my chest, as I watched Lady Death, walk towards me with a look that said " die ", " go to hell " but the words that came out of Lady Death's, mouth were " such a serious look ! " and Her, response to my gift of apology ( flowers and a poem ) and my offer to give Her, a ride home where met with a curt response " I have something else to do " and She, was gone like the lights had been turned out, and then the Grim Reaper, plunged his scythe deep into my heart, twisting his blade with such aggression I could hardly breath as my lungs tightened up, my throat closed, my heart would not beat and my soul cried out in vain . 

   For eleven days I sat in the silences, looking into the casket, at this old fool, who, by his own hands, was killed, killed by his stupidity and thoughtless words. The evening of the eleventh day of my wake, a sweet, voice, from my memory, sang out to my dead ears, but the tones where sugarless and the lyrics where that of a dirge ringing out a death blow, as Lady Death, responded to " will I get to see you sometime ?" with a " maybe " and then " I have to go, I have things to do " and then the coffin lid came crashing down on my state of reverie, the dream shattered like a mirror struck by a meteor, shards, splinters, fragments fused together in twisted, distorted images of what once was ?, is ?, my dream, a dream that was not, is not Hers, and like Alice in Wonder Land, slipping through the looking glass, reality was not as it seemed, for one's reality, on the other side, may not be the reality of another. The visions, the desires, the dreams, one's perception, all, are but splinters of the holographic universe we inhabit, but have no control of. FATE ?, KARMA ?, THE GRAND DESIGN ?, BLIND CHOICES ? 

   Now I spend every hour of every day hanging on to the edges of my funeral, the wake, my spirit attends faithfully and from these, my mind will not let me escape . 

   I wonder if I will be able to step out from behind the looking glass ?, awake from my beautiful dream ?, face reality ?, reality reflected in those exotic, dark brown mirrors, the windows to your soul .

   My Lotus Blossom, my Oriental Dream, my China Doll, my Exquisite Vision of Loveliness, my Exotic Beauty, - she has left me with my own death mask to reflect upon as I look into the mirrors ( images of what I once experienced with Her, ) and see only ghostly figures ( She and me and all that we shared, all we experienced ) haunting all the moments that lie among the ashes of all the beautiful experiences we shared, experience I believe She, has placed upon a funeral pyre, set them on fire, no longer having a desire to even remember we once lived them, them that gave my life some purpose, gave me meaning, put a sparkle in these tired old eyes and a spring to the shuffle of this old mans step. For   Her, ????????????? 

THE FACE OF DEATH ---------- THE DEATH MASK


Long poem by Chris D. Aechtner | Details |

Evergreen


The tide surges
over binary laugh-lines.

Seattle, oh Seattle,
unless you are able
to find oxygen in conch shells
and survive in an underwater cottage,
it's high-time to teach your soul to swim.

The tide ebbs in and out,
allowing us to re-energize in-between takes.
But don't forget to practice your part.

Take 3, this is the scene:

a moonlight-key opened a treasure chest
filled with digital photos of submerged guilt and shame.
These waves are here to stay,
unable to douse the underworld burning in his beard.

Wolverhampton, do you remember
when he came as he was,
ready to entertain us
with a belly full of liquid-bogeymen?

Do they remember how the seahorses kissed
to the sound, to the sound?
The kiss lasted for 230 seconds, times three --

and again and again and again!

Seattle, oh Seattle,
your Evergreens sparkle with rubied feathers,
your road-signs are a bit cleaner now.
Hey, there's always going to be the contradiction
of mud and bleach in Aberdeen,
so there's no longer a reason 
to feel aqua seafoam shame.

There's no longer a reason
to feel aqua seafoam shame*



March 16th, 2014


________________________________________________________

Author's notes: For this poem I used the cut-up technique,
cutting-apart and re-mixing specific stanzas of my poems: 
"ADDWDDMD"(written, September 2010), and, "Currents"(written, July 2010).

I use my own polished technique:
Instead of leaving the initial raw result of the 'cut'/scramble,
I switch words, and add words here and there to offer extra cohesion. 
This is most evident in the switching-around of place names(Seattle, Wolverhampton, 
Aberdeen). Had I left the place names as they initially 'fell', the poem would have 
made even less sense to some of the readers.
I also add punctuation and breaks; formulate stanzas.
I also allow repetition of certain words and some of the newly formed lines.

With my polished cut-up technique, I cut-up/scramble more words than I want 
used in total for the end result. 
I create an 'over-flow pool' of words to inject into the overall shifting of words.
For example, with this scrambled chunk of words:

with / chest / photos / filled / treasure / guilt / submerged,

I switch around the words, while pulling "of" and "and" from the over-flow pool,
and take "submerged" and "digital" from a chunk of scrambled words that 'fell' in 
an entirely different area of the mix.

I end-up with: "filled with digital photos of submerged guilt and shame."

That line triggered the idea to use three words which have been swimming around
inside of my head for years; to use the words in the closing lines of this poem. 
These three words are not from the original stanzas that I cut-up,
so this piece isn't technically 100%, a cut-up poem.

I was inspired by the cut-up technique contest which is currently running,
to attempt another one of these types of polished cut-up poems,
but since I incorporated three 'outside' words and polished the piece quite a lot,
I will not be entering this poem into the contest, because I wasn't willing to 
compromise my intent in order for the poem to fit the specifications of being a 
cut-up poem(100%) in its purest sense as defined by several sources.
____

* "aqua seafoam shame" was inspired by the lyrics: "All Apologies".

"All Apologies" -- Writer(s): Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, Prince Rogers Nelson.
Copyright © 1990 Controversy Music, Primary Wave Tunes, Mj Twelve Music. 
All Rights Reserved.





+/-


Long poem by Ray Dillard | Details |

Classic Vinyl Love Poem

The radio plays their song
And two hearts beat as one
To the rhythm of a tune they call their own.
The gold and platinum vinyl spins
Creating the sound where love begins.
If only for the moment, they have won.

“Something” that George found
In the way she moves and smiles
Made him ‘believe and how’.

Millions search forever and still 
“Want To Know What Love Is”.
It took Chicago 17 tries to find “Inspiration”.

Some go to great lengths to proclaim love.
Joe showed he could “Stand A Little Rain”
For the chance to say, ”You Are So Beautiful”.

The Eagles knew that love was strong
And, if and when “Love Froze Over”,
They knew “Love Will Keep Us Alive”!

Eric used his ‘Slow Hand’ to tell Patti
She was “Wonderful Tonight”, and
Plugged back in to cry his heart to “Layla”
While Mick searched for “Satisfaction”
Knowing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”.

Classics hold a “Whole Lotta Love”
For listeners with open hearts,
And those unafraid to take a chance
To help a “Foxy Lady” find romance,
“With Or Without Love”.

But, I must admit “You Really Got Me”
With “Every Breath You Take”!
You knew that someone “Was Waiting For You”,
And if you become “As Cold As Ice”—
“I Don’t Care Any More”—
‘I just don’t care any more’.

“Angie” and “Maggie” both had lovers
Who had to say good bye. But it
Wasn’t because their lovers didn’t try.

Rhythm and lyrics speak to the spirit
Of “Suzie Q” as freely as the rider of the song,
With an open invitation to ride along.

‘Lace and Whiskey’ gave Alice “You and Me”
And left the rocker moving Muppets hearts.
I hear a whisper from the Beatles, “Let it Be”.


Duane stayed long enough to “Eat a Peach”
But couldn’t stay without “Melissa”.
So, Skynyrd helped his spirit float away.
“Freebird” made the guitars cry
And the crossroads let him go, they say.

The Stones turned down the volume
When we heard Mick Jagger say,
“Wild Horses” ‘couldn’t drag me away’.
How sweet does that Keith Richards play?

Ann Wilson loved her “Magic Man”
And told her mother of his ‘magic hands’.
And through it all she cried for Ann.

Sometimes it’s love at first sight
And couples dance away the night
As the Beatles, when “I Saw Her Standing There”.
And they never needed any “Help”, now let’s be fair.

Some found what they looked for using “Radar Love”
While the Guess Who ran from their “American Woman”.
Could Lady Liberty understand the hatred?
Still, she welcomes all who come.

Some lovers open “Lying Eyes” 
And can’t find love the way they try.

But Mercury was electric and stadiums loved his voice
With operatic vocals he pranced across the stage 
In his Superman wife beater and stovepipe whites.
He begged for “Somebody to Love”,
While Mary waited at home.
Still the singer danced the stage. 
And, like us all, was afraid to be alone.
For him, she was, the “Love of My Life’.

So, when you’re feeling lonely
And think your love is final,
Dig through your collection
And spin some classic vinyl.

(Queen)
And “bring it back, bring it back.
Bring back the love of my life”.

(Stones)
“And if you try sometimes
You just might find
You get what you need”.


Long poem by Tadon Archer | Details |

Twisted

They had his life story twisted as he plotted his death in advance
outsmarting his enemies evading cops and *****es
People hated him they wanted him dead
They said that he was good for nothing
Humiliated him showed him as a negative image in the public trying to
take him down
Telling the viewers he is nothing but a thug and a negative role model to
the children
But that’s what racist people do they care less about a nigga that trying to
make a change and get out the gang life
He was a poet, a rapper and a political leader in many of his fans' eyes
Always encouraging them to hold on and stay strong things will get better
and tomorrow will be a better day
He was a motivator speaker always helping the poor and the hood
He wasn’t afraid to claim where he came from
He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when things weren’t right
A lyrical genius that had his enemies spook and fans confuse
A lot of rap stars were envy of him because they weren’t as real and
talented as him
So they started riots and destroyed his sense of humor tried to drive his
fans away from him
They wanted him to fall
And his life couldn’t get any worser when he was shot five times in
Manhattan by two armed men
On his way to the studio not knowing he was going to get shot
He was set up by a snake that acted like he was his homie
I guess his rapping buddy didn’t know what hit him
Because he had to take the blame while the true phony set in the
background and orchestra the hit
  
And the one who did it is still living repping bad boy records signing
people and then sacrificing them just to rank higher and get up to the
highest club
It’s a shame how can you still hold your guilt for so long for almost killing
your own kind
You’re still being controlled by a white man you didn’t even shed a tear
when your homie die instead you celebrated
Because you knew on the business side you were going to blow up
You’re a cold hearted person and the only thing you care about is money
and fame
Selling your soul and going through gay rituals just for money man you
gotta be mess up
And my guy was marked for death because he wouldn’t **** Quincy Jones
in the ass
So what is the music industry all about?
Do you really have to sell your soul and do gay things or sex orgy in order
to get what you want which is money and fame
Man ya got it all twisted because I thought that you rise to the top
because of your talent
Not doing insane things like changing your religious and worshipping the
devil or sending many of your fans souls to hell doing blood sacrifices or
voodoo killing people
Man this game is dirty all the real people are either dead or gone
somewhere far hiding from the secret societies that’s trying to kill them
And now we’re stuck with these phony ungodly rappers on TV That sold
their soul and did crazy things to get where they are at
Now what type of example are these so call rappers to the children in my
community
They are nothing but puppets slaves that has to take orders from their boss
in order to sell records
What a shame but nobody will never be the greatest like Makaveli retire
from the rap game and still making millions
While people are selling their souls trying to make a million


Long Poems