Best Long Winded Poems
One walked out
One walked in
I sat nervously in reception
Waiting for my torture to begin
Bouts of laughter came from the interview room
Knocking my confidence with each bout
I didn’t want to be there anymore
Tempted to just forget it and walk out
The door opened she came out smiling
My turn to face the panel of three
They were all very nice
Though it actually didn’t help me
The interview in full motion
Questions and scenarios galore
Confident in my responses
Of them l felt quite sure
However, there was a problem
One l had never experienced before
I could not stop saying long ‘ummms’
Every-time l opened my mouth which was impossible to ignore
I apologised for the ongoing ummms
Explained it was just nerves
Next thing that came out my mouth
Yes, you guessed it….’ummm’ before my words
I left the interview feeling completely humiliated
I cried whenever the interview came to mind
I was so disappointed and embarrassed of myself
It was obvious the position was not mine
The letter arrived... l wasn’t interested
As l knew already what it said
I simply glanced at it
My husband read it instead
‘You got the job Deb’, he told me
You can imagine my utter surprise
Handing me the letter
I honestly could not believe my eyes
After working the job for some time
I enquired why they had chosen me
My interview was not my finest hour
With me ummming constantly
She told me there was something about me
That just shone through
Even with all your ummming, she smiled
We decided this job was for you
The lesson l learnt and want to convey in this long winded story is
it doesn’t always have to be perfect or right
Sometimes in life ‘it just is ‘…. simply meant to be
Ummm…..and for you the universe just shines bright!
Your rhyme reads like a rap they say,
a rap I say,
a rap they say,
perhaps but rap is rhyme you see,
it's rhyme really,
it's rhyme you see,
this poem is not lyrical,
no not at all,
not lyrical,
'cus songs use words repeatedly,
repeat you see,
repeatedly.
We'll use that as the chorus,
it's easy and thoughtless,
lets build a rhyme fortress
with verse summersaultus,
not a word but I don't care,
eating apples grapes and pears,
seeking angles of praise from flair,
story starts now take a chair.
Out in public with clothes removed,
I've had this dream but now it's true,
a dude that's nude and on the move,
without a pube all in plain view,
swing it like a helicopter,
round and round 'til someone stops ya,
grab some weed and party poppers,
run down streets to dart from coppers,
drinking aftershock that shocks ya,
always after the shot has docked ya,
stick your head between some knockers,
wake up thick lipped at the doctors.
(Chorus)
Write it like a conversation,
it might give it a new dimension,
in that last verse you forced the rhyme,
of course that's fine in this rap rhyme,
'cus rap is rhyme it's rhyme they rap,
that is a fact a fact is that,
by it's nature rap is rhyme,
if it reads like a rap then it reads like a rhyme,
does that mean always rhyme is rap,
of course it isn't it's less than that,
now that sounds mean,
what do you mean,
rap rhymes are rhymes and rap,
rhymes just rhyme they're not rap,
well what's this verse then is it rap?
No my friend this verse is crap,
I hope they remember this is a conversation,
they're not reading you lost their attention.
(Chorus)
A third verse now this is long winded,
it's forced and pointless poets cringing,
get back to the story,
now you were knocked out,
yes and I remember nowt,
then what the hell's this rhyme about,
it's like a selfie with lips that pout,
no one cares except the poser,
that means no one notes the nose hair,
wrap this up it's going nowhere,
rap it up like you're a rapper,
this poem keeps on getting crapper,
no one's read as far as here,
in this worse rhyme you've wrote all year,
at least it flows like hip hop songs,
it flows with flow its flow is strong,
to flow like this use words not long,
here's the chorus lets sing along.
(Chorus)
it reads like a hip hop
POTD 17/10/2018
How do you define love?
I mean what is it really,
How can I feel so much love for so many
people here that I barely know
...because I do.
You have all been so kind and accepting of me.
Many of you know how I feel.
That I know I am not a poet.
I am not fishing for a compliment when I say this.
I know how kind you all are.
People have been more than complimentary
of my work here.
It is how I feel and I do not want to get
long winded as to why.
It is what it is.
You have an amazing community here
don't let any one trample over it.
Keep supporting one another
Keep your loving ways.
No matter your religious beliefs
there is a light here that shines bright.
So I won't impose my beliefs but I think
I can safely say without offending
anyone this community is blessed.
Forgive those who stray, many of us here
are bruised some worse than others. We
make errors. Again I love the people here.
All the people here.
I have not been able to comment on others poetry
as much as I have wanted to of late.
I am especially sorry to my friends whose poetry
I have not frequented lately. How rude of me.
Everyone deserves their wonderful poetry read.
No excuses just I am sorry.
I want to thank all the people who placed me
in their contests and also thank those who
didn't. I believe in my heart of hearts people
always judged fairly. Sponsoring contests
is difficult everyone second guesses you.
In retrospect I learned and I grew from every
experience. Thank You.
So my loving friends, I am not here to say goodbye.
I am here to say au revoir!
I will be taking a small break from Poetry Soup.
I hope to return soon. To learn my limits poetically
and to stay within them. Enter less contests,
read more, comment more and post less.
I don't know how I can thank you all for your
unconditional kindness.
So many of you have touched my heart,
made me cry.
Sometimes sad, sometimes happy tears.
I am sorry because it is hard for me not
to love you all so much and I know it
must sound insincere but it is me
this is my heart, this is who I am
I love you because of your poetry,
because of your comments,
because you supported me even in my blindness
held my hand and showed me a path I could walk on.
How do you thank someone for that.
With All My Love Always,
Armand.
This garden city
Concrete skyscrapers loom;
Greenery punctuate
Tree-lined avenues
Bourgainvillea clusters;
Traffic jam companions
Waltzing slowly
Overhead bridge;
Ant-people below
Old neighbourhood
Heartland community;
Ageing populace
Feeble old lady
Speeds on wheels;
Electric commotion
Playground
For small kids and big;
Noisy charades
Fitness park
For young and old;
Fighting spirit
City side walk cafe
Crowded after hours;
Beery happy hours
Noticeable absence
Dry spell ending;
Sudden torrential rain
Umbrellas raised,
Parasols hoisted;
Too late this drenching
Side walk cobbler
New lease for old shoes;
Assorted wears
Hyper art queue
Long-winded delay;
Fussy customer
Bank ATM await
Ready to dispense;
Urgent pocket money
Office podium
By shopping mall;
Buzz of human traffic
Downtown hype
Temptations galore;
Mostly unnecessary
Leon Enriquez
23 Apr 2014
Singapore
Such a long-winded line!
Still for me it is fine
Slips and rolls off the tongue
Simply meant to be sung
Sense it lacks by design.
Surveys give it a like,
Same to Andrews/Van Dyke.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Pleiades S Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Merryman
Placed 3rd
© 21st April 2021
( THANKSGIVING AT MAMA`S )
When going to mama’s for Thanksgiving
Your mouth will water for miles away
It’s for eating and a time for forgiving
Before the meal hold hands and pray.
Hope there’s no long winded preacher
Anyone but him should say the prayer
Thank God for mama the teacher
Thanksgiving is such a festive affair.
When the food is passed don’t ask
Just pile it on your plate, it’s all good
Your mouth with turkey it will bask
Eat what you take, that’s understood.
The turkey is always golden brown
Dressing plenty inside moist and tasty
Mama’s love is what does it I found
Her ingredients have lots of modesty.
Lots of food at mama’s to go around
Family and friends to help celebrate
All kinds of good things to eat abound
With all the food it’s hard to concentrate.
Biscuits and gravy, yams and corn too
Leave room for mama’s pumpkin pie
Left over turkey will be used for stew
Filled no more room, only for a sigh.
If the talk of religion comes up
Everyone has their own view
Time for a drink pass me a cup
Mama has fresh tea she brew.
Besides only the church has it right
Everyone else will be going to hell
Hell and damnation a frightful sight
Miss church and mama we’ll tell.
So when your at mama’s for the night
Let’s all be thankful for a great meal
Ask God to bless mama it’s only right
What a good day, full is what I feel.
Green!
Alive
on tall grass,
blithe, lithe, limber,
swaying long and lean
in their beachy masses.
The deadpan sand eavesdrops as
breezes wave blades like silk banners.
Whispers whir with emerald voices;
long-winded grass gossiping with zephyrs.
My friend let me share with you,
the secret of what I do,
It really is a mystery,
I have no clue is the truth you see?
It just happens to me.
I ask many questions,
I don't pretend to know,
of what's so familiar it makes
my heart glow. It just is.
From lifetimes ago.
I have a story of what it might be.
Floats around in my head,
demands attention from me.
Compelled to write an
arrangement on life.
Hearing the language
of what's behind my eyes.
But I don't know why.
I love all the same,
everything about this crazy game.
I'm fortunate and grateful to hear,
Another voice in the Wind out there.
Even if understanding's not clear.
It feels quite right,
like the warmth of a light,
Like the smell of a fresh spring day.
I'm in love with it,
when it comes my way.
A mystery this voice in me,
as puzzles are shown to my eyes.
And I don't know why….
But to my own surprise….
Sometimes I try and it's not quite right.
Sometimes I don't and then it takes flight,
and it's right….and a quiet write into light...
but I don't know why.
Just a glimpse you see… it's the oddest part
of the secret me.
Taking this time to think rhetorically on all the things you’ve done for me.
Not going to make this a long-winded story, but appreciation is what is due on
this day.
I won’t take more than two minutes of your time, so as the preacher says. . .
Start my clock.
Thank you for encouraging me when no one else could even believe.
Thank you for being there for me when everyone else would simply leave.
Thank you for putting up with me when you really didn’t have to.
These are just a few of the reasons why I say thank you.
Thank you for your advice on things that I should do.
Thank you for being the example mother for me when it’s my turn too.
Thank you for trusting me and loving me in all my faults.
Thank you for doing what it took no matter the cost.
Thank you for taking the time to care about the things I do.
Thank you for just being there at the times I need you.
Thank you for the sacrifices you’ve made for me.
You know . . . not a lot of mothers would do these things.
Thank you for letting me go and learn things for myself.
Thank you for not denying me at times when I need help.
Thank you for encouraging me to do the best I can do.
I just pray that one day I can be a mother just like you.
I'm making this brief
to spare you the grief
of having to scroll even once
You see by the title
that this here recital
ain't one of my long-winded stunts
It's not a long poem
there's no need to roam
all over the place for your fix
If rhythm's your need
you'll be happy indeed
that I tossed this one into the mix
Now I'm almost done
and I hope you had fun
with this humorous roadside attraction
So please hurry back
for a quick rhyming snack
and eat to your sweet satisfaction
3/10/19
About what and where should I start?
What I hear comes from my heart.
Sometimes, he's a lover you see.
Sometimes, an uncle who jokes with me.
Albert E.
The story seems to be…
that it might be god.
Might be a game by the name of yod,
but he's the boy who's walking the dog…
I never know, because I'm the scribe.
Sometimes, there's math.e.magic.
Confusion when I make it tragic.
But that only seems to be,
when I'm watching to much TV. ;)
There's math.be.simple,
rhyme be quick, the Pi man's here
and he's making it thick.
His name is simply Siamon.
And there was a time,
I thought he was Maya n,
but he's not. Or perhaps he knots.
I say it's naughty either way,
but I still don't know his play.
He might be the Dragon,
But that's me….
So you see….
It's all just a mystery.
Then there's 'them', the one on the Ones…
I wanted to play but they said nay,
so I showed them how to anyway.
It was some fun. Four.Sure.
I'm modest, to the infinite degree. ;)
Perhaps I'm just in.sane,
but I can say without being vain,
that I got some numbers, some dates
and times, they came to me in bits
and rhymes. And Seems to be,
when I add them up, they do just what
they said to me, ... Luck.e…
they work.
The Monk, The Mayan, The Man in the Hat,
The bat, the cat, the birds and all that…
the owl, the chick, another called Lark,
the sparrows the hawks,
and the eagles that bark..
But most of all is the one who dares… me.
The Lion.Ophi, She's there you see.
Him too. With the speed of light?
What's a girl to do? Who knows if it’s right?
Especially when her worlds just new.again.
I see 'something' from outta the blue.
Poets write hear
and are Long.winded too... ;)
Lit up like a Christmas tree
Is papa after his festive drink
He’s a funny one
Can’t hold his tongue
Dances and he sings
Words that make no sense
Long winded when he’s bent
He gives a Ted Talk
About how to stand tall
And falls on his rear end
Despite his huge blue pride
He knew too drunk to drive
In his sloppy stupor
He calls an Uber
Goes home to angry wife
Someone asked me why I write.
I thought long and hard to come
up with a why,
Then the answer came quickly.
I was a wounded child, and my
heart overflowed with pain.
I needed an outlet, or I would
go insane.
Instead of cutting myself physically
I bled out on a page.
All of the hurt that I endured I wrote
about it.
The more I wrote, the better I felt.
Not only did I write about my pain,
but I also wrote about everything.
My hopes, dreams and fantasies.
If one reads my work, they are
reading what is in my soul.
Writing wasn't a mere coincidence;
it was a lifeline; it saved and healed
me. Sometimes I'm a bit long-winded
but there's no simple answer
to why I write.
Alexis Y.
12-16-2020
He walks crooked like a cowboy
Who has ridden many a mile
Gritty fingers holding old pipe
Wrinkled face and greying mustache
Looking wisely to the night sky
No smile passes over his lips
His is the path of a loner
A choice to walk life's road this way
Head down one step follows the next
Dim lit his eyes travel old paths
Regrets he has carried with him
Because of the choices he made
You might think he's nothing special
But that is far yes far from true
He has many stories to tell
Listen closely I will tell one
It's true he once was young like you
Kind of handsome in his own way
Women had thought that he was cool
Quiet playful with a fast smile
There was just one that he wanted
Hair of auburn pretty green eyes
But she didn't give him a chance
For he had no cash in his hands
One day with her would be heaven
Wanting her love consumed his soul
Planning to rob a bank of cash
Would prove to be a big mistake
All he wanted was her sweet love
Yes in the end he did get caught
Off to prison for his mistake
Him in shackles he seen her smile
Many years passed his debt was paid
Upon the bunk his sad heart sunk
Within his mind that choice relived
Her love not worth the years he lost
Now much older wiser as well
He is quiet and all alone
Stories many you've heard one here
A sad tale of a girl and gun!
Form Iambic Tetrameter
For Georgio's Structured Forms Contest.
His story required more than 28 lines to tell it fully.
Written: December 5th, 6th and 7th.
My first attempt at this form, forgive me being long winded.
Poetrysoup
It happened quite accidentally
As if by chance, this anomaly
I did not know how it could be
That here is where I’d post my poetry
A poem I had written today
Remembering World War One Day
I’d written what I’d had to say
Not too long winded as is my normal way
It seems so strange as I recall
How I did through google trawl
Fishing for a place I’d call
A library for my poems all
And there it was among them all
Poetrysoup as I recall
“What a strange name” I thought out loud
As its name just seem to stand put proud
I opened the site and what surprise
Myriad Poets and poems before my eyes
Like a child I clicked from “room to room”
And voraciously did verse consume
People read our verse and comment some
Each and every word all welcome
What a friendly affable lot
This worldwide kitchen in one pot
At last, a place to call my own
Along with others for their poems’ home
This meeting place; this PoetrySoup
Makes me feel so cock-a-hoop