Long 11th Poems

Long 11th Poems. Below are the most popular long 11th by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 11th poems by poem length and keyword.


Imag1ne pt 1

Imagine waiting for something or maybe it’s someone. Someone you look for in everyone you pass by but not someone that is easy to find. Everytime you pass by these people you look at their feet first, see what kind of shoes they have on. Destroyed black sneakers that are stained darker with red. Then you move up to their ankles, boney and sticking out like balls of compressed dirt, filled with worms and insects on the inside. Your gaze moves up to their knobby bruised knees that look like perhaps they’ve been painted on with watercolors. Next your eyes follow upwards to their thighs. You already know that they say it’s just their cat. Past their skirt you get up to their short-cut top, their ribs sticking out from their skin, looking like they’re trying to rip through to be free. You move your eyes up to their scarf wrapped around their neck hiding the bruises from their so-called lovers. Finally you reach up to their face. So sweet yet such a saddened look going across it. Pale white skin with tints of blue from the veins trying to shine through. Yellow and brown eyelids like dying sunflowers in a sad vase left behind and forgotten in a dark room with the blinds shut tight.  Eyes that look like drops of golden honey or maybe even sap from a maple tree dripped into them, giving them the somewhat ‘life’ that they long to have. Their nose, glazed with hints of red around the openings from being wiped so many times to get away the excess ‘powders’ that make them feel again what they believe to be called joy and happiness. Lips redder than a blood moon that occurs only twice a year, peeling apart from the hours upon hours of picking and ripping apart with their teeth. Lastly your eyes wander up to their thinning hair which was once before very lucious and thick. Your eyes return to theirs as the passing is almost finished. You can see the worry in their eyes slowly go away a little bit as they find comfort in a stranger's eyes, yours. You smile and they return the expression back. You look back down at their mouth when they smile, their decaying teeth slightly showing right before their mouth goes right back shut to its distressed resting position. After you two pass all the way you start to wonder, do other people do the same? Do other people observe others as you do with everyone, looking for that person in someone else that you forever will long to be with?


Sun

Oh,my dear hot star sun,                                                                                  You are the mother sky's son,                                                                         Daily you are born in the east,                                                                         And slowly dies in the west.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Oh,my dear big ball of hot gas,                                                                       You reflect like luminous glass,                                                                       Day and night are made by you,                                                                   You're the day star of the sky of blue.                                                          Oh,my dear sphere of hot plasma,                                                                 You give heat to earth chasma,                                                                       Are you help plants to grow and alive,                                                                All organisms need you for life and live.                                                   Oh,my dear shining eye of sky,                                                                      You're center of solar system close by,                                                           All the planets revolve around you,                                                                Your gravity keeps them in orbit true.                                                              Oh ,my dear big burning lamp,                                                                        You make wakeup all in the dawn camp,                                                 People worship you as their creator,                                                       Without you living things can't live greater.
Form: Rhyme

Spring Equinox 2018

this middle aged rue stirring bummer
   haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
   eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold
ding Atlantic Seaboard

   in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
   brutally sub zero temperatures
   from an occasional nor'easter
   fiercely gripping hold

the majority years, sans this prolific
   recalcitrant scrivener lived
   in various and sundry abode
   housed within Southeastern
   Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
   with 19*** zip code,

and during my boyhood recall,
   how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
   in preparation for planting time,

   where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon 
   many a green acre got tilled and hoed

despite feeling energized and refreshed
   with arms and legs n'er fro zen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric

   experiencing hearthstone nook
   designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
   and toes to make sure, i still got ten

soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
   and floral kaleidoscope of color 
   aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
   drifted toward approaching spring,
the season revitalizing 

   dormant natural inhabitants,
   whose excite (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching from the lizard king.

This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date:
   12:15 PM Tuesday,
   March twentieth two thousand eighteen)
doth rejuvenate 
   inviolable hibernating animals

   and plants, and me equate
to experience sensation,
   whereby entire being does inflate
and (despite marital status),

   nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate
no...no...no...please do not think this chap
   mean spirited and under rate
the woman (at present taking a siesta,

   and i breathe easy),
   who oft times doth henpeck, a trait
inherited many a chic hen
   (with tantalizing tail feathers)
   now (until she awakens)
   proscribing yours truly to wait

for my repast most likely ad hoc
moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock
senseless, the worst facet of self important jock
   consisting of pop slop mock
Hungarian Goulash, a melange
   of relics from age old meals 
   transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.

Her Eyes Were Like Fireflies

In all honesty,
I never learned your name.
I didn’t need to; 
The look in your eyes is your name 
Like fireflies, they twinkle and glimmer your name
A name I love saying 
The way you stare at me 
It’s like I’m the color yellow,
And I’m painting away the grey of your world 

That’s what you tell me 
As my head rests in the crook of your neck, and your fingers trail up the bare of my hip
You’re yellow, and sunshine to me you say
And I’m grey like a pebble, soaking up your rays

I laugh 
But grey is my favorite color I tell you 
It’s the color of the skies on the days I’m tucked in your arms, because its too cold and wet to go outside
It’s the color of my favorite blanket that I keep under my bed
Its only for special occasions
When I need to cry and shake and let the dreams of the night know I’m not okay 

You’re not just for special occasions though
You’re for every occasion. Every fight, every dance, 
Every laugh with my head thrown back and my fingers tightening around you for purchase because laughing with you is like an ******, it breaks me, it builds me, it loves me 
Even when you’re not here
I still think of you
I sit you beside me, and tell you thoughts, even when reality speeds around us, and you’re not really there 

Even now I can sit you beside me 
And trace the figures of your love with my eyes 
Black hair, straight and deep. Sometimes short, sometimes long; I can’t choose, you’re beautiful either way
Brown eyes, deep like the dirt flowers and dreams can only sprout in, that burn like the hearts of spinning stars
Tall, and I hate it, but you always use it to your advantage to capture me tight
I lied 
I love it 
Long fingers, and you pluck secrets and whimpers from me like notes from a harp 
God, I love them 
God, I crave them 

You’re my all dreams bundled into one, my opposite, my piece of the puzzle, my favorite melody, my infinite addiction
I can’t live without you
A day that goes by without you is another breath stolen from my lungs but what can I do because you’re not even real 

Like Pygmalion, I’ve fallen in love with my own mind’s tortured creation and now I can love no one but you 
I can stare at no one but you, and when the night falls, I can go to no one but you 
To Orsino, how can you say women can’t love like men?
I’ve fallen in love with a woman and now I’m dead.

September 25, 2018

2009 Hyundai Sonata Funereal Lament

Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding, 
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge. 

Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair

death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor

totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant

unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,

lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer

for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear

war, (I doubt Trump would 
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.

Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,

nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook

brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes, 
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...

albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding 
challenge, I vilify.


Ah Tis Nothing Greater Than

Ah... tis nothing greater than...
malfunctioning heater on brisk winter day!

Thee particular date being
December twenty eighth,
two thousand nineteen, I saith
the Jack of all trades
maintenance technician

Kevin Blank said he would notify
HVAC expert in good faith,
yet to compliment clangorous din...
I called upon the ghost of Marley's wraith.

Thus despite compressor issuing
cacophonous, deafening,
ear splitting noise
clattering din louder
than convention of reindeer - 
doubled as all boys

(choir) followed by cavalcade
of santa claus, he employs,
the missus of course with equipoise,
and countless elves pressed
for service mending
broken brand new toys.

Why... yes twas during
recent brutal bitter cold spell
methought, yours truly got sent,
where absolute zero temperature
more frigid than hell

of course, I felt like human popsicle
management didn't give a lick,
no matter yours truly gave rebel yell
Billy me you, I immediately
yearned (some weeks back) for April
May, June... some tell
tale sign to alleviate pell mell

bone crushing polar vortex
preserved frozen awful
botox smile impossible mission to quell,
nor avoid frostbite 
to deep freeze every cell
millenniums later despite
climate changed dystopian future
thawed out body reason to kvell.

Forsooth mindlessly jabbering away
jaw frenziedly attempting to convey
how this schlemiel,
would be war re: not game to foray
toward distant forbidding terrain
fifty shades of gray,
alien unrecognizable – nay

boor hood of the late Mister Rogers,
nonetheless expressed gratitude
confessed, I unconsciously did pray
while suspended animation did stay

slowing or stopping
of biological function
physiological capabilities
unpitted and preserved - yea.

Hence upon being
and getting woke
feeling like I slept forever
and a day - no joke
most certainly well rested

constitution I did evoke
intensely scrutinizing men
chilled wren, and women folk,
who appeared out of this world
mutated into Roanoke
smooth as glass skin cloak

against ultraviolet rays
causing skin cancer
their attenuated limbs strong as oak
versatile to prod and poke,
whereby superior petsmart
doggone noggin could invoke

telepathic communication
interestingly enough issuing smoke
signals, whenever danger present
and capable to disappear
as if doing breast stroke.

Bring On the Rejection Slips and Or Lost Wager

Bring on the rejection slips and/or lost wager

Though flush with good humor
pun one mock two yields negligible
true cash equivalent value won
dirt poor offspring privileged as prodigal son
pockets bursting with legal tender,
where just yesterday I had none.

All polite declinations
strung together would circle...
(fill in the blank)
matter of fact, I just got a slew of them
today June 9th, 2020, what a lucky man
me haint an idealist...,

but winning poetry (writing) contest
or purchasing lottery tickets...
yeah, nothing butta pipe dream
such improbable whimsical notion
linkedin and tantamount
with milkmaid and pail

Aesop pose fabulous incredulous solution
finally good riddance
hand to mouth existence
hello riches, perchance a dollop
and/or sizable windfall courtesy
drawn PowerBall and/or Mega Million ticket

whereby yours truly suddenly
cursed with chump change,
and/or abundant money
would experience "fifteen minutes of fame"
flush with friends and relatives
I (a misanthrope) never knew existed
(perhaps even marriage proposition,

no matter wedded bliss prevails)
interesting... how moderate
and/or substantial wealth
suddenly finds chock a block
acquisitions (regarding brand new automobile,
custom designed house,

travel opportunities galore
(maybe even vacation to Mars)
(despite coronavirus - COVID -19) prevalence,
nevertheless awareness viz immutability altering
pubescent stunted emotional, physical
and social development

profusely sweating hands, social anxiety
all the while knowing money
can't buy happiness,
yet once and for all at long last
free and clear of grinding poverty
cuz groveling along

the pockmarked highway
avails countless exit ramps
plethora of choices
how to be analogous to jolly Roger
piloting immense ship of state
(approximating size of Rhode Island)

equipped with the latest trappings
matter of fact replete
with every creature comfort
analogous to rich
self sufficient independent country
allowing, enabling, and providing
a warm welcome - think unfurled
Harris tweed Scottish welcome mat.

Meanwhile somewhere in Schwenksville, 
Pennsylvania resident 
(within apartment B44)... 
tenant fritters precious time wishfully thinking
(luxuriant life within theoretical leisure class)
finding this nameless scrivener
invariably hoisting himself by his own petard.

Premium Member He Gave Her a Book

"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)



a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!

how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent  company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!

then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf..  couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !

almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...

a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!

many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams 
ultimately my first love has returned !


                
                          First Place
                         May 15, 2021
        Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
                  Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose

Cowl Lix Aged Language Lover

please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
   especially, encountering 
   the following conglomeration
   in matthew scott harris patois).

He readily admits writing inventive
   attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
   Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
   courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
   gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
   and certainly less
to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward 
   cogency, fancy ingenuity,
   levity, the inevitable 
   resultant wrought gobbledygook
   fascination for Lingua Franca
   feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
   and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
   sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
   finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
   swimmingly enervated 
   via erotic laced sentiments
   perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
   hollering, gesticulating floundering,
   (in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
   to avoid drowning at sea
   perchance comprehending passionate influence.

   Upon espying a signature poem of mine
   forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
   tib hush anonymous re:
   dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
   taking him/her to the brainy 
   (briny) deep brink
   Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
   aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
   alphabetic wanton soup,
   or figurative egg drop bub
   bling broth (el) doth brew)

   pronouns Sibyl affectation 
   affliction sans plethora,
   where each ladle full adrip with
   richly flavor Verdana Font lee
   and sincerely textured vocabulary.

   Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
   (blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
   suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
   particularly expectorating flashy 

   hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
   hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
   might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
   vis a vis plagiarize plethora 
  amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
   temptation to bask exultantly,
   professed glorious unrequited love
   announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:

Karen Windle Roughly On Par

Karen Windle roughly on par...
with being a miniature poodle size dogsend

Apartment B44 one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor low income facility
housing older folks convenient starting point,
to launch poem and invite reader(s)
reason(s) without rhyme
why yours truly (me)
chose to express heartfelt gratitude
toward resident Karen Windle,
which named individual most likely unknown

across world wide web
(hmm... maybe methinks perchance
possibly ye did sound her out courtesy radar,
especially if thee dutiful patrol officer
generously handing out -
not necessarily) winning lottery tickets
within vicinity encompassing
University of Delaware.

We (myself and zee missus) inhabit
aforementioned single bedroom abode,
allows, enables and provides
convenient reference point
upon exiting our dime a dozen quarters
(housing near penniless occupants)
verily orient toward left of hallway,
no need to access global positioning satellite

leisurely amble short distance
just count three doors down on the left,
thee will espy name tag printed
small letters Karen Windle
her acquaintanceship we did kindle,
now greater value when measured with corn,
wheat, or other commodities
approximately equal to three bushels,
but varying in different regions.

Explanation whereby appreciation
toward Karen (spry firecracker, energetic, 
diminutive, albeit frail looking gal)
materialized when series of unfortunate events
rendered me and mine spouse
without ready immediate access to automobile
near necessity within quaint enclave
identified as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania

affords absolute zero public transit,
hence necessity for chauffeur de jure arose,
whereby availability to shuttle us
found monetary compensation declined,
thus stymied intent regarding how I could
communicate sincere thankfulness
relieved when she would accept

poetic endeavor incorporating
best college try (mine) to alleviate
imposition if/when opportunity exists
to scrape meager money
and expect to sink a fortune
maintaining, insuring, fueling vehicle,
significant portion of social security (disability)

allocated to sustain reliability of car
dollar figure greater than buzzfeeding
caretaking, duties linkedin to
mental, physical, and spiritual health
concerning this aging baby boomer,
plus his counterpart approximately
previous couple dozen years.

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