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Long Urban Poems | Long Urban Poetry

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

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Long Poems
Long poem by Jorn Kolding | Details |

I am a virgin slammer

I am a virgin slammer,
Let me get that over with,
So if I stammer and speak like a bludgeoning hammer,
Let the record be clear: I’m just trying to go with this.
So I won’t walk the walk or talk the talk,
I may even stain the sheets while I am at it,
A crimson red outpouring of moonshine soup you best delete.
This isn’t going to be easy, I am feeling downright queazy,
Who do I pretend to be today? 
How many second meanings should I hide behind?
Should I show my behind to get the right effect?  Or be that disrespect?
Elloweeeze Eloise where are you, I need your attitude, right now,
Get your little sass into my face so I can pull this off with urban grace.

Second meaning by the way is not like second base..
It’s more like you understand that I understand that you understand what I understand,
Which is a very non-poetical way of saying you don’t get it.
Do you?
Nah, you don’t.
Woaaa, I don’t like this tone or where this is going,
Better to slam this casket shut,
Close it man, bury it 
This storm ain’t gonna get blowing, 
Not enough to sack Rome with at least,
Chill down a bit, let it sit, slow, slow, slow, down
down 
down 
down
Into another town I must go,
Find another weather pattern,
Let it snow.
By the way, I didn’t finish my thought about second base,
Didn’t quite tie that one in,
So let me try to do something about that,
Fear, dust…. ?  Oh, I lust…
By way of second meaning I will show you where its at,
You see (no you don’t) second base is not like second meaning
Because (I don’t mean to lecture you my faithful reader just stay with me
Together we shall taste victory)
Because… well just because (by the way I feel a buzz)
Because while second base is halfway to home second meaning 
Is as far away as you can get from home,
At least the kind of home where your mommy and daddy live.
Oh, your mommy and daddy….
Or where doggies and kitties roam.
Don’t touch the cute doggy, its gonna bite you..
You see, second meaning is like dreaming,
Of worlds and words that get to go streaming, 
Carried down a river, right smack into a gaping verbal liver,
On the other side of this metaphorical ride,
You can take what once was and use it to deride.
Did I make that clear, my teary-eyed poet little dear?
Am I filtering things enough for you?

So let’s get back to business and draw up another plan,
No diversions this time, I’m gonna be a man now,
The big poet man, destroy what I can,
That’s right, that’s what I am,
A big poet human flotsam sack of feathery fluff,
Whose gonna huff and puff and blow this safe-house down,
Down 
Down
Down
Into the ground
And bury all you living poets under a mound,
Of toothpaste carrion and jelly-shaking deception.

What kind of reception do I expect?  
Less than lukewarm I suspect,
This is a virginal conception after all,  I am untouched you know,
Pure, white, light innocent snow,
Falling, slow, slow, slow,
Down 
Down 
Down
Upon fertile land that has known no plow,
Oh, no….
I feel a seizure… wouldn’t you know

ZZZZZsurprise, Johnny is back,
Let us pick up the slack, slam a knife in your poet back,
Have some fun, take out my horny verbal gun,
Do a zig-zag flyby, grab you by the wings, count your balls,
Watch as you fall
Down 
Down 
Down
Into the bottle you go
(better to have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy) - that’s a quote “quote”
And that was all you wrote my little friend,
Buzz, buzz, buzz
What a killer buzz….

Did I tie in lust?
Well, if you have my trust,
I will get back to you on that one.
My girl in little red shoes, I will bring you news,
And tell you who I AM.


Long poem by Emma Kalliway | Details |

Generic White Girl


I am not going to deny that i love my Starbucks
and im not going to deny that i think i look awesome in my leggings and ugg boots
and i am sure as hell not going to tell you that i dont have an unhealthy attachment to my iphone
and i am not going to tell you that the first thing i think of when i see a terrble storm isnt 'awww cuddle weather'
but 
i am also going to tell you that i love my starbucks
because i was a rehearsal until 1 am last night
and im going to tell you i think i look asesome in leggings and boots
because i dont have time or energ for real cloths
and i am going to tell you that i have an unhealthy attachment to my iphone
because i have to text my father everyday t o tell him i love hime because i cant tell him in person
and i am going to tell you that the second thing i think of when i see a terrible storm is
man i sure wish i could be with my siblings they are proably freaking out

See
at first glance
lk all the rest of us whte chicks
 i look like the average white girl
 who had everything in her life handed to her
and i am not going to deny that i had everything handed o me
but whe ni say eberything i mean everthing
i dont just mean the things i want 
because while i wa handed 
and education
food 
a houses infact multiple houses to live 
i was also handed
divorce
bullying
and razors i used to cut my wrists

see
When i was born a cacasion femail
society peggd me
white chick
and hen i grew older i foundout i was white chick
and when i grew older i thought i should probably figure out what white chicks was 
so i wrote myself, or copied den societys definition of 
white chick 

white chick:
an girl born in an urban sociaty and given countless things she is ungratefull for and oppertunities she is to stupid to take. girl who is more concerned with her apearence and what people think of her than if she is healthy or malnirshed
girl who calls herself things she so she can get complimentsbecause she relies on other approval of her to think she has self worth

and see, when i didnt fir that definition
i thought something was wrong with me
i thought wow i am relly letting society down 
i thought i was different 
and i was'nt
because h=there was basing my self worth on what sociaty thought of me.

see and then i learned 
that different is okay
in fact better than okay
in fact different is great
in fact better than great
i have learned that different is the best!
because diversity makes things interesting
and individuality is beautifull
and expressing individuality is gorgous
and its amazing to be and love yourself
because self is the first word in
self worth
which i have learned must be based on you and not what society makes you out to be.

so i have decided
i am  a white girl
i am  a white chick
i am a cocasion femial
iand i am my self
and i am ot anything more
and i sure as hell am not going to ever let anything make me anything less

and yes
i love my 
starbucks
leggings
ugg boots
iphone and
stormy weather
and i love my self!


and i feel cool for being different
and i feel great for being myself
and i feel awesome in my leggings and ugg boots
and my own in skin

becasue according to myself 
shich my self worth is based on
i am


Long poem by Paul Powell | Details |

FREE 2 SOAR

               

I am not perfect I am not a saint 
I have my vices my loves my hates

I am human flawed not unlike most of humanity 
I can admit to this quite openly 

I cry at times, I laugh equally as much one can see
I'm very much happy  complacent relaxed I try to be stress free

Any problems in my life are minuscule yes I compare
To the struggles of others everywhere 

Friends who've lost family members the stabbings knives carried by young boys
Those around me still suffering silently their friends don't even know

Why can't it be like the old days 
Fisty cuffs no knives or gun play

I strive to be better I move forward I analyse 
I wish so much suffering would disappear I hate hearing the cries 

I've found purpose in my life I just have to hold on learn not to  let go
I was for the longest time a lost soul
empty with so little to show

I now see much clearer so brightly for me the road is lit
I now know my purpose in life & I'm so elated with this 

the energy that flows surrounds me 
the positive force
I feel alive spirits lifted at last I am free 

What the future holds for me I do not know
But where it seems to be leading me I am compelled to follow

Blessed I feel yes blessed be
If I have continual inner happiness I can help others to be like me

Much calmer more clarity I think deeply I analyse 
I'm writing these words cos I've truly opened my eyes

Yes one can have ones eyes open but  can one truly see
Yes I surely can because as i said earlier I've been set free

I am not bound to the world I don't worship material gain or worldly needs
I have my life my health my inner strength I want to succeed 

No darkness surrounds me but so much positive I can't complain
try not to let negativity bombard & disrupt ones  brain

Well to be me not perfect Flawed disorganised I do try 
To make myself better so happy am I 

When you're reading this please i want you to understand 
I am moving forward il make myself a better man

So to all I offer my positive energy
Take some I don't mind
but leave me a little yes I'll be fine

I draw this to a close it has soon reached its end 
I've found my calling my purpose from now to  my life's end 

I know what I am now but in the future what I'll be 
I'll be ascended I will fly yes I believe this to be

I'll help others selflessly as much as I can
and those that know me already will truly understand 

I love this fact the changes slowly I see
i know it won't be instant,  ke se rah what will be

My eyes speak the truth honesty in my words 
Extra extra  read all about it I will not be deterred 
from the path that I've been clearly set for me 
Unburdened ill head towards light & get to where I want to be

Where that is yet not so clear but the signs are there it shows
All I know it's a wondrous happy place, a place to learn be enlightened I know 
I am ready to take this journey I am so ready to grow 

So let me get on this mission a challenge I'm sure 
It's my life I intend not to hold back anymore  
                 xxxxxxxxxxx
      I'm seeing life more clearly now i am  free content  happy, I will soar &I'm ready to fly xxxx

6/6/2012

Da Predman powriginalpoems2make u :) 
the urban poetry collection


Long poem by LATARSHA GRANDBERRY | Details |

A Woman's Worth

A Woman’s Worth
When she walks in the room
she wants people to stop and stare
not because they’re whispering…
what she got on girl, what’s up with that hair?
But because she looks good, conservative and chic
looking her best from head to feet
she knows the spiked heels and look at me blouse
will make all the men become aroused
she knows that look would make conditions tense
but how she’s dressed builds confidence
she doesn’t do loud make-up, green hair or tight skirts,
if you don’t know, how will anyone else know your worth?
Not trying to be  Nicki Manage,
never putting on a fascad
being original, still blending in
all because she’s good  in her own skin
She looks pretty
and carries herself well,
clothes should hide
what only time should tell
When a man calls us out of our name
boy, do we get offended
Aretha told us the Rule of R-e-s-p-e-c-t
It’s usually us that bend it
Wearing anything to work, 
any and everything to church
talking that ghetto talk
walking that ghetto walk
telling your friends, girl, he don’t respect me
your friends telling you that you save nothing to see
Asking him out first
Not knowing your worth
You didn’t give him a chance
giving all of yourself on a one night stand
sitting there wondering why he didn’t call
now you’re starting to feel about 2 feet tall
think back, yall never took the time to ask for number and name
now you’re feeling so ashamed
It wasn’t your smile or your smarts that got you here
that drink, you didn’t think
Oh, is that a tear?
Men respect us based on how we think of ourselves
they measure us on what our body tells
what is your body telling?
that you have something you’re selling?
there’s so much you can tell with your body
you don’t have to be revealing to be a hottie
besides, I have daughters and they’re watching me
I try to always give them something beautiful to see
what are we teaching our little girls?
that our bodies will further in this world?
the answer to that question is no 
the BIBLE says train a child in the way they should go
what we need to understand as women we deserve respect
but sometimes what we give is what we usually get
when most men see a woman in low -cut shirts, short skirts and high heels
to him you’re worth about as much as a happy meal
if I’m a meal, I’m Crème Brouleé , Beluga Caviar, Laute Truffle Chocolate, with 1945 Chauteau Vintage wine,
That’s who I am all the time
Be who you are, 
can’t be me, I’m taken
If you think you can live as someone else
you’re sadly mistaken
I’m a woman every week,
365 days a year
I don’t clock out
I wanna make that clear
Ok, sometimes I can joke and be crazy, 
but I never forget that I’m a lady
so girls, get it right,
you can stay on your grind
FOR A REAL WOMAN IS A WOMAN FOR REAL AT ALL TIMES



Long poem by Hitendra Mehta | Details |

India Shining

India, my motherland best as any mother
To me, at par with best world over

India's invention of Zero and Decimal 
Critical to scientific calculation, invention

Rich ancient culture of Harappan civilisation
Alexander, Babur, too could not resist invasion 

Founder of Diverse religions,
Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism 

Himalayas, abode of Saints, spiritual Mantra
Holy rivers Ganga, Yamuna, Bhramaputra 

Multi-culture, cuisine, languages - local, foreign
Muslim, Christian, Zoroaster, secular terrain  

For centuries borne Moghuls, British slavery 
Now successful largest Democracy 

Greats - Gandhi, Vivekananda, Mahavir, Buddha
Sacred texts - Vedas, Puranas, Epics - Ramayana, Mahabharta, Gita 

Taj Mahal, Khajurao, Ajanta, Ellora – mausoleum, temples, caves   
India’s Wonders of World, UNESCO World Heritage Sites 

Deployed for Peace, Nuclear Power  
World’s second largest Army but invaded never 

Founder Member of UN, Non-aligned Movement
India’s standpoint significant in any world’s event

India, leading force in South Asia Region
Global force to reckon with in any international forum    

Every third Indian in world's intellectual work force
Medicine or Software, India has best human resource  

World’s second fastest developing economy 
India, future Super Power, can't stop any 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Country - India   
By Hitendra Mehta
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
~ Harappan civilisation - ancient urban rich Indus Valley civilisation

~Alexander / Babur  – Greece/Moghul Emperor

~Ganga, Yamuna, Bhramaputra – Holy rivers 

~Gandhi – Father of Nation, led Non-Violent freedom struggle against British Empire
   
~Vivekananda – introduced Hindu philosophies of Vedanta & Yoga in Europe &
   America.

~Mahavir / Buddha – founder of Jain / Buddha religion.   

~Vedas, Puranas – Primary Hindu Sacred Texts 

~Ramayana, Mahabharta, Gita – National Hindu Epics. Gita,part of Mahabharta 

~Taj Mahal – Mausoleum built by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan. A UNESCO World
   Heritage Site. Featured in Seven Wonders of the World. 

~Khajurao – Hindu, Jain temple famous for erotic sculpture. UNESCO World Heritage
  Site.

~Ajanta –Rock cut monument famous for masterpieces of paintings/sculptures of
  Buddhist religious Art. UNESCO World Heritage Site.

~Ellora – Rock cut monument famous for Buddhist, Hindu and Jain caves. UNESCO
   World Heritage Site.


Long poem by Andrew Crisci | Details |

Part I-THE ESCAPE OF A ROOSTER NAMED HARBOR

A handsome rooster with red-breasted feathers, soft and lustrous,
and a head covered with golden plumage,
was too unhappy to sing about his age,
so he embarked on a long journey, sadly departing from his friends.  


Thousands of miles over farms, vallies, villages and cities he flew,
seeking with all his strength an urban, bustling place...
to terminate that monotony, which made him too blue
and disunite himself from an ordinary life which implied bondage.


And roaring over majestic mountains, rolling hills and cities with skyscrapers,
he encountered suspicious and envious eagles that
challenged him with their vicious shrills, but he displayed no apparent rage...
still diving into luminous and transparent clouds.  


The unhappy roosted had not rested for three long days,
and exhausted of flying, he decided to take a brief break by a bubbling stream;
his dry,wind-whipped eyes started to roll and he fell asleep...
and trancing and tossing, he rolled downhill into an harbor of sailing ships.


The well-rested rooster woke up around noon, finding himself in the lap
of a gorgeous boy and he was telling his mom kndly,
" I want this rooster, he can keep the lonesome and quite parrot  company."
And she replied, "It's a not a pet, my son!" she explained.


Mothers always try to please their kids, and sometimes spoil them,
not according to their customs and bekiefs...fathers are much stricter than them.
"I'll take care of him and I'll feed him, and soon he'll be living on our ranch home."
"From now on, his name will be Harbor: the lovely place where I found him."


The gentle boy kept his promise and Harbor became family,
and the untalkative parrot tought that Harbor to say the same and exact words he said,
and as days went by, nobody knew how he could utter them humanly;
and how did they find out that Harbor was smater than any other rooster or even bird?


They actually heard them in a challenging conversation who could find a perfect mate
in the shortest time and the shrewd parrot would surely be a winner,
but to his surprise, Harbor, with his accumulated widdsom, sought in a nearby, sunny farm,
where chickens were raised and transported on an old air conditioner freighter.


Harbor looked around, and he didn't seem to like any chicks he saw;
was he about to give up on his search? Suddenly not! He trotted past the noisy barn,
and to his bewilderment, he spotted a beautiful chick on the grass below...
and gallantly accosted her, and with a chat, he started a romantic affair by keeping her warm.


Long poem by Daryl Joplin | Details |

Gypsie Boy Part One

The toot of a lute
Rang through the air
The carnival was uproar with laughter
A little boy's eyes
a much larger size
at the sight of what he was after
A stale piece of bread
Sat in the trash
It made the little boy in rag's mouth water.
So he reached through the gate
as soon as it got late
Hoping to avoid his slaughter
For stealing was a crime
Even from a trash-bin
They'd have his head off in seconds
A guard caught his eye
But before he could cry
Fate thought he'd need a hero, I reckon.
Some strangely dressed women
appeared from the shadows
and drew their shiny swords
The strangers fought
In the dead of night
The boy was lost for words
One of the women
She approached the child
She bent down to get another look
Seeing his starvation
The pain in his eyes
And the energy that life's stresses had took
"Come with us," Said the women
With a friendly smile
She offered the little boy her hand.
"You'll be safe with us,"
The women explained
"No more getting kicked in the sand."
The boy gave the women 
a cautious look
He greatly considered her offer 
His parents had just died
Of a horrible starvation
Tonight, hunger wouldn't take another
The little boy agreed
To join the Gypsies
Together they ate and they danced
They traveled from place
To place to place
With a merry smile around he pranced
But what they didn't know
Black magic was brewing
The pagans couldn't sense it upon them
But the hungry little boy
Had always had a gift
He knew when trouble was near him
Immediately he ran
To alert the Gypsies
He said something dark was coming
The pagans all stopped
The music died down
They'd send this enemy running
With candles and an altar
Some herbs and a pendant
The pagan's had formed a plan
They'd cast out a spell
That would protect the people
The animals and the land
Suddenly the sky darkened
Rain started to fall
Their magic wasn't working
With no wind blowing
A candle tipped
Danger was definitely lurking
The fire spread 
through out the camp
Tents burned down to ash
The gypsies all panicked
And fetched buckets of water
These problems surely couldn't last
The next two moths
were full of bad luck
The boy got covered by glances
"These problems didn't happen"
"Untill this boy came along."
They said getting rid of him would raise their chances
Of surviving in this
Horrid world we live in
They shunned him within a matter of hours
The boy wandered the earth
With tears in his eyes
His cries rang out with power
So on he walked
Following the road
As his gypsies had taught him
Though his spirits were crushed
and his body hungry
Nobody in the world would stop him


Long poem by colin mitchell williams | Details |

Where The Peaceful Dream Unfurled

Was it just imagining
Which brought these eyes to see inside
Another world
We could have realised
A different story
For all our lives

Looking into this stolen world
Where the peaceful dream has unfurled
Its banner of love beneath the sun
A flag of truce for everyone

The journey of our hearts becomes celebration
When all is gathered into one
A birth in unity
Of this global family

Looking into a broken crystal sphere
Only turns on me its dark reminder
Of what we all have become

Peopled with lives of separation
So filled with their neighbours fear
Grabbing all they think they need
Appeasing someone else’s greed
Their solitude in slavery
To the markets of their luxury

While other faces shine with a tarnished love
Are hoping for the pious judgement day to come
So their elite self-righteous sense of justification
Can gloat in contentment and damnation over the wicked ones
And please themselves with all the evil they have never done
But smiling still with condemnation as they watch
Their brothers and sisters
Burn

And on the tiny gang-land street
Where colours run with gangster feet
The agonies of our divided homelands
Are played upon a smaller stage
Violence by the guns divide 
Rules to keep the urban warriors small
Keep them in their skin deep cultures
Keep them fighting for the scrapes let fall
From the tables of wealthy vultures

Usurped by those who wanted more than would suffice
They sold us back ourselves for a price
They are smiling in our death
Killing each other for the chance
The less we are 
The more there is left
To fight over

Keep us fighting in every way
For a better life some day
In these lives we do not own
With all its empty promise we are shown
Robbed from us so long ago
We were redesigned and then re-sold
Is now the only way 
We have ever known

Looking into this stolen world
None of us seem to be human anymore
Our future confiscated by the fear of fear
Destroying all the things we hold so dear
So love can not stretch beyond the wall
To the faces of the starving poor
And extend our helping hand 
To us all

Was it just your imagining
Which brought my eyes to see inside
Another world
We could have realised
A different story
For all our lives

Looking into this stolen world
Where the peaceful dream did unfurl
All the banners of its love beneath the sun
Became a flag of trust for everyone

Did the journey of our hearts become 
When all were gathered into celebration
The birth of this global family
In a unity of one





 


Long poem by Troy Nelson | Details |

Creature of havoc

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I lie in bed making up stories 
trying to figure reality
like the center of everything 
listened to by the radio
i strategise with my garbage
somehow the riddles of song are there to save me
the artists know that by reaching out to me
having me figure out their puzzle
they can save one life and millions of like minded individuals
i represent
but if the bad guys catch on then it all goes out the window

I open my window
light some incense 
close the door
put the lit candle on the sill
lay myself on my bed my father gave me 
I wonder sometimes is cursed and perhaps
was conceived on
and thats why i cry on it soo often
my name is one metaphor i haven't figured out

laying underneath a blanket i snuggle all night I've named mike
Michael for short
crying into a pillow i named after a boy i fell for with bad teeth
and all the right looks named Brian
my other blanket Ben

so under a blanket of Michael
in my skimpy underwear
thinking how lonely i am 
how i wish i could brainwash myself to exercise
i ponder the dreams I've been having
Nine inch nails screaming lyrics don't you know what you are?
and i still don't....


a dirty blonde haired six foot something 215 pound fatso
who needs to lose weight and wear less revealing underwear
it all comes clear to me

I get out of bed
freaked!!!!
running to the stereo at first then the singer says something
i wont curse you with
so i go to hide in the bathroom until the delusion passes
until i can regain some sanity and escape myself
but stupid me put the label of urban legends on my bathroom door
so i fling the door open
think the word psycho
which I think of myself most days
and scream out loud
it's all coming clear now

heart pounding
the stereo
still guiding me with it's blue glowing haze from across the room
poetic justice i suppose
i hope i'm not a metaphor for a city
i hope i'm not a metaphor for a king
I hope i'm not a metaphor that affects too many people
but underneath this blanket of an angel of justice
is the real me
talking to myself in the dark

wondering
am i crazy
brainwashed 
possessed
or have i just been visited again
by an arch angel
and the gods of this world have made me insignificantly important
and thrown out my free will
which im nervous to discover

If only you knew the whole story!!!


Long poem by Shadow Hamilton | Details |

Moors of Winscombe Face

It was on the night of midsummer's eve, there was a pregnant pause. Not even a leaf was moving,
the sky so starry bright and the moon benevolently shining lighting up the moors.
It was the kind of night that anything was possible, up here far from the maddening crowd
Kept company by horses and sheep I climb to the top of the tor to be met by a vision of
utter perfection. Under the full moon it was almost as light as day with no urban lights 
just a sky with a meridian of comets and a shooting star canvassing the landscape.

moon so silvery
back lighting all in warm glow
yet keeps it secrets

In the distance down near Timbercombe the harsh cough of a stag softly calling to his
doe's gathering them up to climb to the top of Winscombe Face. There they will browse
until the dawn starts to streak the sky as night turns to day. Hush now, see that? A pair of 
hares sparing and chasing each the movements so fast as to be just a blur. But I
transgress,  led astray by the magic of this ancient place that in times of old was a beacon
where a large fire would be lit to warn of maundering fleets of Vikings and later the Romans
both coming to plunder and enslave.

harsh cries ringing out
as metal swords strike in rage
blood spilt  on the ground

In the distance a moving shadow streaks across the moor rather catlike but too big
for any domesticated cat, was I seeing the beast of Exmoor setting out to hunt
wanting a closer look I set forth on an intersecting course. I managed to come 
within 300 yards when it turned and hissed at me warning me to back off. I did not
Argue but stepped back to give it space with a last snarl it vanished from sight
and search as much I could no further sight of it I saw just a couple of paw prints
by the stream bank left in its soft muddy soil.

on the wind swept moor
a large cat stalking its prey
it leaps and then kills

Many are the rumours that abound up here, sheep taken and eaten not dog mauled
but a clean suffocating kill. Do they really exist? these beasts of the moor? This has
the experts in uproar, some saying yes, others no yet if you talk to farmers like
Fred Bell he will tell you of his many sightings as he works his sheep farm a couple 
of miles from the face. He will tell you of seeing it stalk and kill with never a sound
uttered and the sheep barely lifting their heads pay it scant attention. Up here with
houses and farms far apart could it really roam freely yet leave so little proof of its
existence? 

myths and mystery
blend into the moors fabric
whilst the night masks
 

    


Long Poems