Poe the master of the macabre &creator of the first fictional detective, C. Auguste Dupin with much to say in his essay 'The Philosophy of Composition' It is said Poe viewed poetry as his true calling and highest art form, seeing it as the rhythmic creation of beauty.This long poem reputed as his poetic masteriece is full of dramatic dialogue thus reads more as a prose poem .I prefer his shorter 'eap' style list cinquain where L1 is a statement followed by rhymed L2-5 that amplify the statement with words introduced by 'in the' by the ' of' inspired by sililoqy in this form in the conclusion of his essay Poetic Principle.
I can’t write about you
It never comes out the way I want it to
Don’t get me wrong
I love writing about you
But I don’t want to look back at my art shameful of it’s outcome
Especially if it’s about you
I write haikus because they’re easier to phrase
Straight to the point
But I used to hate haikus
I always thought they were pointless
Short and not well thought out
I thought they were a lazy attempt at giving something meaning
I don’t know what happened
But something changed my mind
I try to write long poems about you
But I get lost in thought
I write without thinking
And when I read what I’ve written
I want to burn it
This isn’t even a poem at this point
I see no passion in what I’ve written
Just a confession that I’ll look at a few days from now and never touch again
These words stuffed with meaning they weren’t supposed to have
Will collect dust
Until I decide it’s time to say goodbye
I’m sorry I can’t write a long poem about you
I hope you still like the short ones.
This is an excerpt from my long poem "White Scars" to my dear one, Daedalus (iykyk)
...
But in my solitary life
Your touches felt like golden to my skin
Your kisses remedy of my past
Your hands with your white scars
A ressurective pleasure
And you came to me that night
"Just a word of your and I'll be gone"
His eyes an ocean full of stars
His hands with his white scars
They don't believe me
So please don't leave me
And I yearn for you
I want your skin on mine
I want your thoughts to orbit mine
Your stars to touch my sky
I want to sense your flaming heart beating upon mine
To kiss all of you for maybe the last time
In the dark just you and I
...
so like i make any poems if you pay enough $10 for a short poem $15 for a normal poem $20 for a long poem all usd if you cant make the usd we can negotiate a price it may seem expensive but i assure you if you dont like it you get your money back but you must tell me within 5 days i am a student published poet in the book rambunctious press twice my cashapp is $KrinArtComs1 if you have any questions comment dm me or reach me through my gmail which is [email protected]
My best years are not my youth
But the years that I am calm
Specially happy cared and loved
Deeply into humdrum meditation
Timeless chess games with friends
Numerous midnight watching films
Endless time going to the woods
Lovely days watching the sunset
Most often in the sea catching fish
My daily fav writing short or long poem.
Breaktime, I'll write something for you
Breakfast or lunch, I think of you
Birds outside the window, chirp at me
Birds of the same feather, follow me
Be it short or long, poem I write you
Braided or craze, your hair, I describe you
Below or over my head I scribble for you
Beaten or scrambled egg, I'll fry for you
Better late than never
Bread or butter I will serve you ever
Brevity in my poems I pen so tender
Bending or standing, I'll never surrender
Bright or dim lights will aid my bleary eyes
Blunder or sentimental, my heart for you never dies
Were I to compile all my poems
I’d surround myself with six or eight great tomes
And watch the age of yellow slowly creep
On poems with which no one would share a peep.
I fantasize of picking out the best
But then, what would I do with all the rest
For in their moment they were dear to me
How shall I place them now, one two or three?
We met and in consensus did agree
Upon the only way that it could be
That each should hold its place within my heart
For it’s just one long poem from end to start.
John G. Lawless
©12/8/2022
Monday means rise and shine,
get out of bed and be at work on time,
it's a day some consider makes them blue
when full of stress and crying too.
Tuesday gives us our second wind,
makes up for the tiring day before
as we hustle our bustle throughout the day,
relieved when we are headed home as we pray.
Wednesday is over-the-hump part of the week,
catching up with thoughts that were filed
within the cobwebs of our busy minds galore,
remembering to pick up a frozen pizza at the store.
Thursday is inching closer to the weekend,
a wormy sort of day taking forever to end,
as it progresses on the clock of slow motion
wanting to give it a shot of magic potion.
Friday is the barometer measuring the week,
working each day makes some feel in the pink,
watching the clock until closing time
knowing we earned every dime.
Saturday means sleeping in late,
alarms are not set to get us out of bed,
eating a leisurely breakfast is a treat,
pancakes and coffee can't be beat.
Sunday is the end of the week,
a day of worship and singing hymns,
afterward a dinner at home sweet home,
then a nap to end this very long poem.
Go direct to your astral being;
you may need a ruler or a compass.
Don’t drift off, center yourself,
this is not going to be a long poem.
Breathe as necessary.
Know that your hands will probably
always be available for high fives
and fist bumps.
You are not a minnow inside a whale
though some days it feels like it.
Your intestines are not gummy-worms
though some days it feels like it.
Some body parts
have long Latin names,
just name them all, ‘my soft bits.’
Doctors may occasionally ask you
‘where it hurts’
always point vaguely to your Zen Body,
after all you’re not a Doctor.
Travel serenely out into the world
secure in the knowledge
that you will not fall apart
for several hours.
Lupus Dei, grief of the heart, sealed eyes...
Has he not spoken of the total collapse of his identity?
Gorged in simplicity of his violent shadows, foreboding
Giving almost the most beautiful cataleptic look full of texture
The one that is in a dreamland between love and longing,
A heart completely exposed to a bayonet forged in the fires at Mediana.
A persistent agony of dissolution shall make no rule
As I demand it to be silent, in my head, in my heart, in my soul,
It shall not display negative or destructive rituals, or
Insensible impatience or it shall not raise the voice or angst
That would disturb the peace at a small well in the oasis of aspiration,
It shall not be prohibitive, unduly, infringing or chaotic,
It shall not be so!
Oh shadows, shadows of the dark,
Set the chain of events free
Let them be modest and true
In the darkened arc – ignite a spark
Let me in – let it be!
As ever, with love.
END
****
NOTE
****
Due to the character limitations this long poem had to be split into 7 parts to post.
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
i did not see you then
i do not know you now
the dark roots of your love penetrate
the white threads of your smile piercing
my turbulent blue veins
your inadvertent presence fruits of notes
exquisite splendour, testimony of chords
closed mouth seems to speak
the secrets of the tormented love
the ignorance of your lasciviousness
your sleeping eyes seem to see
polar stars gleaming in bliss
resplendent white roses
music shouts then eases
into the depth of the sea
rambling down the cobbled pathway of
your altered subconscious innocense
music groans grieves then spread
to the unknown galaxy of my dreams
climbing thin vines twisting roots
the dark leaves tremble then fall
in the entrenched soil of life
the death fertilises sprouts
a new flower is born
[from the long poem fifth symphony}
a sweet legato melody fragment
pithy and memorable violin
giving way to pounding heart
atavistic relationships of
attendant focused forces
i do not love you except *
because i love you
sweet battles of the long war of love
articulate measures of lust
superseding the insidious invasions
fleeting moments of sorrow
i go from loving to not loving you
motivic relationships minor versus
major..thorns of the last war
my love moves from cold
to engulfing infernos
[from my epic long poem 2222 line . fifth symphony}
When I Shall Someday Lay Under Frost On The Ground
In with dead and dying leaves I pass my time
Drink my strong coffee, write my truth, in rhyme,
Without fear, and seeking no favor I dare tell
That once covered within my hardened shell;
Alas! My heart cries for much I would undo
Lying to my sweet lover a dozen times two,
Youthful drunken rages, bold ladies of the night;
And such eager anticipation in brawling fights.
Sometimes I wonder if, on all this I should dwell
Bring back feelings of that dark and ancient hell
Yet my mind and muse both gaily conspire
Cry out, write this now, regardless of soul's ire.
When I shall someday lay under frost on the ground.
Pray these words serve others and some find profound.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-14-2017
Sonnet - SUBJECT- ( Daring to Tell)
Note - This sonnet was first written in my private journal back in 1983.
I decided to edit it (heavily)and present it here today.
I took out some very personal references of others I knew and had dealings with--shortened the original long poem down into a sonnet.
The willows have wept
Lancet leaves, tears in the creek
Dream in their prison of ice.
White sycamore roots,
Twisted and gnarled, form islands
And pools, a necklace of pearls.
The stream disappears –
Magic of karst – to emerge
Down valley, unexpected.
December 31, 2016
For contest: Form C
Sponsored by Broken Wings
5th place
The most intricate Japanese Poetry form is the Choka, or Long Poem.
The early form consisted of a series of Katuata joined together.
This gives a choice of form structures of ..... 5 - 7 - 7 - 5 - 7 - 7
.. etc, or .. 5 - 7 - 5 - 5 - 7 - 5.. etc.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.