Long Academic Poems
Long Academic Poems. Below are the most popular long Academic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Academic poems by poem length and keyword.
Gangly longfellow thoreau and thru...
Well stocked with
wordsworth lx numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer.
While in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes
William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly styled pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f¨ç°ˆ˜© swear
unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment
understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggy)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live
within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.
They stood inches apart
Both having a racing heart
Gazing into the eyes
With absolutely no reason for lies
They met weeks ago
Very busy and on the go
A date with a drink
In front of a romantic slippery frozen ice rink
Now they were inches apart
With a beating heart
Mature tasks
Challenged them to wear symbolic masks
Putting aside this reality façade
For a moment worthy of a cry
Choosing a setting filled with floral arrangements
The two enjoyed the lunchtime flowerlike engagement
Having no words
Listening to the chirping from the birds
‘I do’ she said
“I guess now we can wed”
Was the remark he did say
Knowing soon there be a wedding day
Bonded together
Realizing life’s weather was getting better
He put a ring on her finger
While in the background an audio played words breathed by a singer
Nervously she shook
While he was on his knees she proudly stood
Inches apart
Remembering the honest that beat in the heart
She returned to the collegiate academic look
Freeing him to return to the business suit to manipulate the investment books
But when the moon light glowed
Honesty returned to the young girl’s beau
Who she met during an innocent supportive act
That changed his pinstripe tact
It was a lucky chance
Choreographed as a lifelong dance
When she bumped into the well-grounded gold
Making her emotional guard fold
Inches apart
A church audience listened to the romance in the beating heart
Watching them commit to this start
He in black she in white
A decision based on true love that was right
Success is not just being
the best,
it's been so unassisted in a
test.
Success is not been
someone else,
but by making yourself a
role model to everyone else.
Success is not just
academic stability,
it's the mandate to succeed
in every good ability.
Success is not just getting
there first,
it's sometimes needed to
carry the rest.
Success isn't ' i know and
you don't ',
neither is it ' you know and
i don't '.
It always says ' what can
we learn from eachother ',
or ' lets strive to be the best
together '.
Success is not measured
by fames or fortunes,
but by the amendment of
the past misfortunes.
Success has nothing to do
with your age,
neither is it acheived by
lust or rage.
Success is not having all
you want,
but by you appericiating,
cos that will count.
Success is set in motion by
great men,
who have nothing to do wit
bad omen.
success doen't smile and
say ' i have all ',
neither does it laugh and
say ' you don't have at all '.
Success isn't in knowledge
or wealth,
but it's in justice and divine
health.
Success is acheived by
great readers,
who end up being
exceptional leaders.
Success is not a feeling of
superity,
but by a unique character
and humility.
Coupled with hardwork and
determination,
in other to acheive all
dreams and visions.
Success doesn't mean
financial prosperity,
but it means heavenly
security.
To get tn the house of
greatness,
one must walk through the
road of success.
Successful people believe
right from d day of their
birth,
and in that which can't be
destroyed by moth or death.
Whispers of the Wind
sounds so soft and sweet
convey Christ’s calming caress~
sing down from my skin
May 9, 2022 12.57pm
KEEPING ANOTHER POEM BELOW AS REMEMBRANCE. Posted today: May 15,2022 12.47pm
Thank You So Much
Valuable were your work, support and service
Rendered at this institution for many years
You were one of the assets of our department
You worked hard for all teachers and students
Outstanding was how you came through
With love and sincerity in all you do
In our unit, notable were your contributions
Trustworthy in all your efforts and actions
Time came to share your services to others
A greater opportunity to bloom like flower
More chances to reach further goals
For yourself and for mission-vision of our school
Thank you so much for everything
Good luck and best wishes for a new beginning
Let’s still see each other around the campus
Sharing smiles of friendship as bright as a rose.
May 10,2022 11.11pm
Poem written for our librarian and teacher in one
as requested by our Academic Head
She was moved to another department this coming
opening of school year 2022-2023
My life to follow the statement below
‘ Dream and dream till your dreams are not fulfilled ‘
EXACT DREAM sprouted from childhood inspired by Dad.
To study and being analytic to acquire knowledge
was Dad’s prime advice with parallel instruction
to be truthful, honest and righteous, not to be religious.
That was my exact dream and tried to honour
Universal Moral Values throughout my life.
I’m Mathematician and taught my subject with devotion.
In later life, I turned Professional Writer, Author and Talker.
Delivered several Talks in Radio, seminar, clubs etc,
choosing mainly scientific and academic topics.
One part of my Dream occupied Literature and Cultural activities.
I explored the world of Fiction and Poetry.
I fulfilled this branch of dream taking part in Music,
writing scripts, directing with stage performance.
I know, Recreations play vital role in Human Psychology.
In last phase of my life to conclude, my EXACT DREAM
still exists with this advice ‘Fulfil your DREAMS , acting Righteous,
and honouring Universal Moral Values of Life. ‘
If I crash-out of this med-school thing, I hope it’s a gentle spiral.
Upon a trembling wire I make my stand,
a Flying Wallenda, knowing no other life.
A deep and quiet moonlight, well flatters the mind's labour.
So scholars' efforts are commonly crowned in sleepless industry.
Coincidentally, those same treacherous moonbeams
dubble-dip as lover's ambiance.
Those that study flesh, may find their own poorly mastered,
as it conspires - in want - and distracts with fancies ill-timed
- as if desires were somehow exam-unaware.
Ambition ties me, with strings, to ever-urgent examinations,
while desire, that merry thief, giddily unlaces me.
Between love and ambition, I dance a careful step,
half-architect and half-willing fool.
Should I fall - as other highwire walkers have,
let it be said that I fell with blushing grace
- not by neglect, or overzealous reach,
but by the tragedy of earnest and impatient love.
Exams start in 2 hours. It’s hell week. Wish me luck!
.
.
A song for this:
Tiger, my friend by psapp
I woke up this autumn Sunday morning
with papier-mâché clouds performing
like a ticker-tape parade from left to right
a strong breeze doodling fall leaves to flight
The birds are just gliding, no flapping in sight.
Today’s a free day, a don’t mess with me day.
I’ve no homework, or assignments
it’s like I’ve escaped from confinement
even my coffee tasted like creamy freedom.
What do you do when you don’t have to do
anything? Why, I could write a play, like Mozart,
or an opera, like Shakespeare - if I were THAT smart -
but don’t those sound like academic effort to you?
I want to hold hands in the park and promenade,
Peter loves strolling the flower markets by the Seine,
a gelato at Amorino after lunch at the Saint James cafe,
and the rain or shine street art at Rue Saint-Rustique.
Isn’t boyfriend-time the best way to spend a Sunday?
.
.
Songs for this:
Waterguns (feat. Tom Bailey) by Caravan Palace
Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz
Dreamin' by G. Love & Special Sauce
Did you just look upon my chubby face?
And thought let’s give her a chase
She is just a fragile flower in a vase
Let’s give her a taste of being waste
Just don’t try to execute your plans in haste
Cause you haven't seen me in my natural state.
Did you just see my five foot frame?
And thought let us frame her for shame
Oh! She is excellent at the loosing game
Well if you don't change your ways
You better start counting your days
Alas! You haven't known me always.
Don't you dare wake the monster in me again!
My neurons are fighting like gangster in my brain
Many a heroes I have slain
I will blow you like the husk of the grain
You better take your hands of my lane
Or you will be fighting the devil in vain
You have seen only the smile I have worn
Not the heart festered in stone
The moment I was thrown into school zone
Cannot tether two letters together, my brain torn
I was scorned, could hear people moan
But at last adorned the academic throne
Oh soon they took shots at my looks
And bullied me with their mean hooks
They were just entries in my joke books
Soon bested them at their own game
But regretted the girl I became
And gave up that lame game
My decision might go on a hiatus
So beware of your current status
Don't you dare wake the monster in me again?
My neurons are fighting like gangster in my brain
Many a heroes I have slain
I will blow you like the husk of the grain
You better take your hands of my lane
Or you will be fighting the devil in vain
Cause I am practically insane
...Now human cloning is always borderline,
but it this case all agreed to it, fast,
a chance to disprove a major religion,
what academic would pass up that?
A good many of them seemed rather glad,
but they all agreed to do this in secret,
they had to be sure, and were not there yet.
They took the DNA, and a donor egg,
in the artificial womb they both went,
a new machine the size of a van,
that, ironically, many thought heaven-sent,
since it had brought abortion to an end.
A device that had saved so many lives…
now used to disprove all religion’s ‘lies.’
About a year in the child looked like
a small boy, somewhere around six years old.
one day Pete looked in, and felt uncertain,
had for a while, if the truth be told,
and said to Tom, who by now felt quite bold,
“I know you are smart, have lots of degrees,
but have you really thought what this might unleash?”
“It will final show superstitious folk
that no deity will ever be real,”
said Tom as if talking to a child,
“And that with facts and reason they must deal,
and that the world does not care how they feel.”
Pete sighed and said, “How have you gone so far
without knowing people, what we really are?”
Tom just scowled at the janitor’s words,
then he snapped back,”Aren’t you on the clock?”
He didn’t say more, didn’t get him fired,
as a worker he was solid as a rock,
but like most men had a head like a block.
Tom refocused on the task before him,
another year passed, they prepared to go in.
Thanks to advances in technology,
growth in DNA they could accelerate,
which means in two years Tom’s people had grown
what took a normal person two decades,
though they could not, in this way, educate.
So what came out would be a large baby,
and not some living god, all people would see.
They were planning a big reveal next week,
but for Tom that just wasn’t soon enough,
he’d put so much effort in this project,
put in long hours, done the media stuff,
he wanted to see the results so much…
He went in late one night while Pete cleaned the room,
and boldly opened the Artificial Womb...
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
What actually is a insecurity?"
Something that general public regard as an impurity.
Such as having too much body hair,
Or having a complexion that isn't fair,
Or having a big nose,
Or wearing some non-trendy clothes.
But all this isn't limited to physical appearance,
It is also about belonging to a community treated with indifference.
It is about not being social enough
Not being good in academic stuff,
Society demands us to be picture-perfect,
Completely obedient and always correct.
And we corny humans just want to belong somewhere,
We require some love and some care,
So we give everything we are,
Just to learn are wishes aren't rare and nothing bizarre.
Well, insecurities might not be cool,
And those stares can be really cruel,
But lets not try so hard,
What is really beautiful is also odd
The only disgusting thing in this world are the standard who call us unwanted and ugly,
Cause we are the one who decide, and every part of us is beautiful and lovely