Long ii Poems

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


Cat-Walking (Ii)

“Wait! Wait!! Wait now Driver !!!
Your passengers still dey down
Which kain Driver be dis sef?
Those ladies never enter abi?”
Passengers stood up echoing angrily
Some hitting hard at the snail-like Marcoppolo
Alas! The man behind the wheel paused.

The left passengers rushed in 
All ranging with anger
Alhaja’s fury got to the crescendo
She was fell twice before hooking up
To the cat-walking moving house.

Pacing up and down inside it
The man still raining abuses on all we 
And the one who conducts him joined   
The Alhajas, they harassed to our chagrin.
Unto the ears of the Boss of the Man
Behind the wheel she beckons
“ He must pay dearly for this”
She echoes, trying not to sob.

At the very park of the vehicle in Zaria
The Alhajis . . . we and others complained
That a slow mad man was wheeling our lives
We want him no more to wheel our lives 
There comes the change of the Driver
As we all laughed and giggled to Kaduna.







Alayande Stephen. T
7.30pm 
21st of July, 2006


Blood and Kin, Part II

...His hand flashed fast, the Colt spoke loudly,
Dalton was struck, flew back wildly.
Silas shifted right, cut down that man,
still fumbling with the gun in his hand.

The other man threw his hands up high,
said Silas, “Run, or you too will die.”
The bandit scrambled, leaving the bar,
Dalton still breathed, but wouldn’t get far.

“In what wourld could we ever be kin?”
snarled Silas, standing over him.
“When you get there, find Satan and tell
him how a Hamlin sent you to Hell.”

Dalton’s breath rasped, the fear present now,
wanting mercy he’d never allowed,
but Silas cared not, slowly took aim,
then sent a bullet straight through his brain.

The saloon was still, people hiding,
Silas straight up, gun still smoking,
said to the bartender, “Sorry for the floor.”
flipped him some gold, then strode out the door.

Blurred Vision II

I always thought
Doing anything
Gives me identity
Guess I was wrong
Making anyone else
Feel the same way
I'm a few days
Out of hospital
Still I can't help myself
I just wanna die
Afraid to go bed
Afraid to get out of bed
Afraid to use the bathroom
I'm asking for help 
For just about anything
I see only blurred vision
Broken down and confused
Dying all over again
After losing Mama
Twenty two years ago
Hope is nothing but
A blurred line
People say it often
It is like when you sneeze
Only seldom people say
Bless you
I don't know
If it should be a thing
I'm just saying
Have you ever feel so helpless
That you just want to hide
Let alone die
I feel hopeless
© Phatt Matt  Create an image from this poem.

Moderate Debauchery, Part Ii

...When we heard of his loss we took it hard,
at first it was very hard to believe,
and it made me double my efforts to
moderate my own debauchery.

But within a year it all began again,
this time with Bomber, our hammer on the drums,
he was always something of a wild man,
and ever sober could be somewhat...dumb.

I know it sounds awful to talk like that
since I always really liked the guy,
but he was a man who lived for the moment,
and difn't reflect on things deep inside.

He also spent cash on powerful cars,
and one day after a big drinking glut,
he got in his Porsche and managed to wrap
his car around an old-growth chestnut.

Bomber somehow survived the big crash,
but would soon face long imprisonment,
the groupie in the passenger seat
took the brunt of it, died in an instant.

Bomber has never forgiven himself
for taking away someone's daughter,
they say he still cries, serving twenty years
in jail for vehicular manslaughter.

Now the band was back to Riff and myself,
hired sessions hands to fill in the gaps,
even decided it was best to go clean,
just to avoid these destructive traps.

But the damage had already been done,
two years later Riff didn't feel well,
the doctor confirmed he had H.I.V.,
and he quit touring, to conserve his health.

Now before you ask, he's doing okay,
today's drugs really knock down the disease,
the doctors all say he'll live forty years,
which is about what I expect for me.

Maybe he got it from dirty needles,
he dabbled in the hard drugs, he did,
but more likely he got it from a groupie,
hell, he has two out-of-wedlock kids!

Riff has always liked chasing the trail,
I think it goes back to his high school days,
before stardom he'd just been a band geek,
too awkward to ever get a date.

When famous he overcompensated,
he was always slipping off with a girl,
and when he received the diagnosis
it altered pretty much his entire world.

He went out and found those two children,
raises then now as a stay-at-home dad,
want them to have a good family life
and I a cannot blame the man for that.

He did built a home recording studio,
still writes and plays on all the albums,
but he'll never strut the stage with guitar,
I guess that phase of his life is now done...

CONCLUDES IN PART III
Form: Narrative

Part Ii

Whilst listening out for the pitching and
cresting frequency of the turbines and
blades from the wind farm upon 
Frankenstein's castle on the hill

Mistress of the pale rose deftly ballet
dancing the breeze from the inside out
of a green mile prison bar 

I want I wish I cast my net like a fisherman
in famine times from the whence the sun
comes up and later drops
As this years crops have failed the once
plentiful fertile soil is now gathering up dust
underfoot from the elders dancing and
pleading to God to save the day and
for the rain to come

So gather all yee faithful
Put on and dress up in your Sunday best
Spray yourself in floral scent
And let the world outside relent
And only for a minute if you can

Find and depress the off button
And switch off your computer please
And let it sleep as well
For it's you i have come to visit and see

And take a journey of discovery and
revisit back to the future past to a
foreign time not so long ago

To a land where people used to take
the time to stop and talk and enquire
of one another something as simple as

How are you and all of yours doing
Are you in fact ok
Is everything alright

We have all the time in the world
You now have my complete attention
Give this dog a bone 
I don't bite

I promise I will only patiently listen to you 
dictate and tell your story in which or
whatsoever manner of your choice

And together we can write the poem
of your life in word's this far

Because if not now than when is
this world in more need of real
life super heroes

Who do not feel the need to hide behind 
mask's or wear a suit or cape in order
to do good

They battle weary face a sword with
the only armour disposed know unto
them to wield

A heart infused with truth , purity
and innocence a pen and 1 left and
1 right long sleeve

To write this stain in permanent 
coagulating blood 

Enjoy your victory whilst it lasts

For you not only do you know what
you have done

Nor not the consequences of what
is to come that can never be undone 

That fate alone for you awaits 

Because all I know about life is that
it's fleeting all of us are merely visitors 
passing through

Whilst death on the other hand 

Isn't


Premium Member Under the Bleachers By Seymore Butts Volume Ii

Little Jonny returns with a brand-new toy.
He’s back under the bleachers, this naughty little boy.
He’s got a cattle prod that he has named King Tut.
It’s fully charged and ready to zap someone in the butt.

He looks front to back and side to side.
He spots a plump quarter moon and smiles with pride.
It’s little Susie’s Mom as she sits and cheers.
Little Jonny gets ready, as if he’s throwing a spear.

Little Jonny takes aim and plunges it deep.
A quarter moon bullseye right between the cheeks.
He cries out in joy, this sure is fun!
She screams in pain and little Jonny runs.

The moral of this story is be mindful of your third eye.
When you sit in those bleachers be sure to get up high.
You never know when little Jonny shows up to take a peek.
Always pull your pants up and never show your cheeks.

November 23, 2020
Make Me Laugh With Some Humor - Any Form -  New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Form: Rhyme

In defence of the profane - II

Emotions sit no straight to meditate,
They look for an emergency exit,
What’s sane and sound gets caught in a Zen state,
Seeks profane whilst a safety valve’s remit.  
Raised on a diet of good behavior,
What sane nigh prude do but ponder and brood?
Being quicksilver and nigh cavalier,
But not crude, vaults profane in words plain nude.
This is no way to wield vandalism 
Of verbal brand way bit a wounding kind,
Profane words ventilate wrath with wisdom
To bring back lost balance of a sane mind--
   A fair device to open up floodgates
   That cools raw rage and pre-storm peace creates.
______________________________
Sonnet (tongue-in-cheek) | 18.12.2025 | profane, peace, sage, words
Note: The part - III follows.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Last Train, Part II

Out of all of us my best friend
Came to an inglorious, untimely ugly end
We were digging holes inside a cave
But what he didn’t know was that he was digging his own grave

When it was finally time to go to bed
He turned around and a Nazi shot him in the head
He fell into the hole he had just dug
And the Nazi covered him up with an old dirty rug

They poured gasoline on him and set him afire
That was to become my friends funeral pyre
We were made to stand there and watch him burn
And the Nazi said, "This is your lesson to learn”

That night we all went to bed
Full of sadness, fear and dread
What happened that night really gave us a fright
Nothing was ever going to be alright

At night I see the ghosts of the lost
During the day I see the price that it cost
The Nazis have no religion or conscience
They only believe in killing and science

Later that day, a Nazi came with something he made
It was a very awful ugly lamp shade
On one side of the shade was something I knew
It was one of my dead friend’s tattoos!

Of the unfortunate unlucky dead
The Nazis were shrinking heads!
And they were making all kinds of things
Out of the prisoners, their gold teeth and rings

One night so cold I was watching my frozen breath
The Nazis came and took me away to see Dr. Death
He said he was going to give me a shot and it would do no harm
He rolled up my sleeve and stuck a needle in my arm

That was after Christmas in 1944 late December
And from that moment on nothing I remember
An American soldier told me that when he found me
I was walking around the prison yard like a lifeless zombie

Now it’s early May 1945
And somehow I am still alive
It’s amazing that I am not insane
The last survivor of the last train

To understand the holocaust
You must understand all it cost
In this camp it cost the lives of over a million
Of innocent men, women and children

Now we speak of all the lives lost
In the past tense
It all really comes down to the cost
Of all the dead and the presence of absence

Against all of humanity there leaves a void
A hideous heinous crime
So many promising lives destroyed
In one short period of time

Lives that were vital and present
All became past tense
And we can still feel and resent
Their absence of presence
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Love You, II

I love you, she questioned?
The words, an inquisition,
at least in the early years.
Will you care for me?  
Will you be faithful?
I love you?  Do you love me?
Could I have done better?  Could I be happier?
Have I made a mistake?
Have I made a mistake!
I love you?

I love you!  She accused,
no gentle touch, no kiss, 
no tenderness,
only allegations.
The words said so many times a day,
I love you, unfounded innuendo,
suspicion in her voice, 
recrimination in her eyes.
The pain of that beautiful phrase,
I love you!

I love you, she deluded,
trying to convince herself,
to convince me.
Half hearted and trite,
No emotions exuded, only allusion.
I love you, Forever,
indifferent inscription inside of the ring.
Peck on my cheek,
fading, until it’s whispered no more,
I love …..


03/02/2022

Premium Member Food For Thought Ii

Many problems in the world
Church is one
Self-appointed kings are Founders
Of non-existent Kingdom

Heaven is our kingdom
The King is Jesus Christ
He started it and only Catholic or Roman Catholic Church
Be sure before you die, you're a Roman Catholic

Your God, is my God
Only one in 3 different Divine persons
Men and women are able to know the truth
We thought we'll be in our Kingdom

Disappointed when we knew the truth
We expected but we're cut with the double edge sword
First good impression is can be a lie
Hard to change a reputation

Our God is Jesus Christ
Cooperate with the grace He gives
To not sin
We ignore Jesus in our side

Just cooperate in His Church
He grants you to be very careful of sinning
Pay back what you owe
Unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart
Form:

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