Long Accurately Poems
Long Accurately Poems. Below are the most popular long Accurately by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accurately poems by poem length and keyword.
Stars are out tonight--
more accurately
I am out tonight
to greet them, the
cozier side of me,
my evening thoughts
far more at ease
in dimmer light--
the pavement of my
steps less rowdy
for the clutter abating
with heels of high
and soles of tap
relaxing to slippers;
(the daily pace diminished
but not somber—as those
needed rests of a theater score;
I evacuate--having
survived a jittery line
with nervous anticipation--)
To say they are eyes
and not the eyes of others,
seeing not the worlds
and their journeys
is to forget the past
and deny the future
where we may all
yet greet, some unimaginable
place…
one could never count them
all, you know—for one thing,
they never stay in any place
long enough:
like people we love
treasured ones
becoming wrinkled
and feeble
like evolution--
in fact, to try
and hold on to any precious
moment or period
in time, is like trying to
guess a woman’s age
before the shades are drawn
when honesty begins….
As long as we continue to see each other differently
based purely on a people's origin of birth ethnicity
there will never be any truly coexisting, peaceful, harmony
among our one and only worldwide surviving human specie.
Even so called respectable terms like black or white
evolve to be eventually derogatory such as "wigger" and "kite."
* The above isn't accurately derogatory *
* That would violate Poetry Soup's racism policy *
and speaking of "racism," I do believe
that "racism" should be redefined or eliminated from the dictionary
because it has been scientifically proved unequivocally
that race does not exist. We're all related genetically.
We're not like different species of cats like the tiger and lion
both separate unique cat species but with an obvious ancestor shared common.
There aren't any other branches extending from the human specie tree,
not since the Neanderthals went extinct. Now it's just all of you and me.
I think, there are ghosts.
They stay quiet, the ghosts do. Mostly quiet and invisible. You would hardly know there is one there in the room with you. They are there though. Watching, haunting really to think they linger on, just to be voyeurs. I don’t feel like I’m being watched though. They don’t even have real eyes, they have ghost eyes. I think that’s why they are lost, they can’t see where they are going, not in any discernible way. But they do follow. I can’t talk to them because their vocal chords are much worse than their eyes. They are quiet, mostly.
I hear a clang, a splat, squelch and a bong. It’s like the chimes of a clock striking but it’s a clock that has forgotten it’s a clock. Maybe it woke up too soon and thought it was a tomato today, or perhaps a lima, I can’t be sure. That sound irks me, only it’s, I don’t know what it is they are trying to say. I don’t speak ghost and ghosts don’t speak.
You may wonder why, I believe in ghosts. You may, if you don’t. I don’t need to believe, they are there with my knowledge or not, watching. It is, as if something happened, or will happen. Well things happen whether you believe in them or not.
You never saw a tree fall in the forest when nobody was around but you believe it makes a sound? Perhaps you don’t. You believe in gravity and in the sound mathematical equations you can preform to accurately predict orbits, acceleration and tension? Perhaps you don’t. You believe in oxygen and the carbon cycle. Perhaps you don’t, but that no more stops it than a finger stops a running tap. By any means, belief is not important. You can believe yourself to be a monkey and still believe monkeys capable of writing Shakespeare. You can believe you are a woman, and so you should.
We are not living in a time of truth. We live in a time where the truth is second to nature. Or maybe just second. Second to politics, second to wellbeing, second to matching socks. Where did those socks go? I can’t imagine ghosts have a foot fetish. Don’t suppose they get some thrill embarrassing those caught with odd socks. No, ghosts don’t steal socks, it is the washer that is the real kingpin in that racket.
If I could ease your load
By letting you know
How much you give to others
Just by being a decent brother
I would try to tell you though
No words can accurately paint
The majestic crown on your head
You inherited your title
As a king you can never be less
Than you are genetically blessed to be
Stand tall be all that and never lose your vision
You have a job to do
Only you can be who you are
You are a unique light
Even when your job, your life has a dark side
Never forget for some you are
An example even a sample
Of just how real men roll
Of how good God is to know
When you have a crown, cap, dreads or bald head
Royal skin kissed by the sun
I was excited to go to college a couple of months ago
I wanted to meet new friends and go with the flow
I was also so nervous and speechless at the same time
But, I knew singing was my talent and choir is so sublime
I stepped foot on campus at PCC one sunny afternoon
I was wearing a confident, yet sheepish smile, wiping off the sweat from my brow
I probably looked like a fool who lost his wisdom so soon
I’m afraid I’ll have to sing my best and run the extra mile somehow
I walked into class at last – fear faded away into the past
I looked around the classroom full of happy-go-lucky students – life is one huge test
I waited patiently for the teacher and he arrived so fast
Most likely, I didn’t look my best, but I tried to look presentable and leave out all the rest
I assumed that I belonged in the bass section…hopefully, my voice leans that direction
I was holding on to my backpack till I put it under the black chair
I saw my sister on the girls’ side, looking calm and reserved …I was, well, an exception
But, thankfully, I was good enough at hiding my shyness just a hair
Then…the teacher put us into our four sections and we happily accepted it
I was right all along – I did belong in the bass group fortunately
He picked out group leaders and I met eye to eye with him – he seemed legit
He introduced himself to me in a kind manner and smiled in a jiffy
We became friends fast and he taught me how to sing out more – he made me feel like fresh morning dew
He also taught me how to read music more effectively and accurately
His name is Ronald Spriggs and he hung out with my sister and I – we had so much fun and had so much to look forward to
He complimented my voice, so that I can feel comfortable and encouraged me
Lastly, he invited us to a Wednesday night karaoke event
Our cousin was there!
It was awesome – I was surprised how our night went
We lived life without a care…
Our cousin was shocked to see us and gave us a big hug
Ronald, me and my sister sang our hearts out afterwards
Before that, he ate a meal and carried with him a glass mug
Finally, we sang together in harmony like gracious birds
I want everyone to understand clearly
that I don't want anyone to touch me.
I hate seeing clocks or watches in proximity..
They very rarely tell the time accurately.
At night, I have a reoccurring dream frequently.
In a clock's face, I see heads of persons I can't stand.
I cut off their heads with the minute hand.
There's this girl named Lisa who speaks with rhyme.
If she talks to anyone, she rhymes all the time.
Muriel is Lisa's other personality. There's nothing she will say.
Muriel writes down any communication she wants to convey.
Are you curious about where David and Lisa will go?
All you have to do is watch the video.
April 22,2021
Based on the 1962 film "David and Lisa"
There is no combination of words that I can use to that would accurately describe the coalescence of feelings that occur when you pop into my head.
It appears to me that you have created your own product of chemicals, your own word or phrase, your existence within my life is unique for you and you alone.
I have never struggled with words.
Whether it is an impromptu speech or a carefully planned presentation, I would excel.
Yet when you walk in the room, the words cannot be found. My articulation disappears in between the layers of the fabric of our universe and I become dumbstruckingly taken aback by your profound beauty.
It is not just the beauty of your face or your body, but the appeal of your mind.
The way that your presence commands attention from all who have been graced by your existence.
Perhaps I am one and the same of all of the other wordless fools when faced with a kind like you.
Rather than taking that title with shame, I claim it with pride.
I could write it on my forehead with permanent marker or onto my chest where my heart used to be.
You have an individual hold on my heart, my head, and my soul.
In only a years time you have engrained yourself into my very being, and every waking thought I have is shadowed by the thought of you.
My friends are worried.
They think I need a swift rescue, but I am exactly where I want to be.
Leo Varadkar: 'I don't agree with the Catholic Church's policy towards women
Speaking in Washington
A bit two faced of him to speak ill of the Catholic church
singling one faith as it was homosexuals whom entered it
causing the scandal disrespecting God in the first place
by abusing young boys maybe if the truth were to be told accurately
and people read between the lines him promoting killing Irish children
what values does his words have to be honest respectful clear
for his personal opinion truly seems to be what he promotes openly
above and beyond calling down names firstly forcing his agendas
down everyone's throat his attitude and lies need to be addressed prompt
as he dehumanises children of all races and sexes
regardless of his high and mighty attitude and policy towards women
when he has none only abortion spitting out of his pride filled mouth
to put it mildly squarely on the cases examined bluntly
LGBT should be held to account as well
on certain facts obtained in relation to all abuses
from victims of abuse in many churches I spoke to in person
over the years I for one am not blindsided
instructing his ignorant view singling out one church
tells me deep down all I need to know about him
I am a catholic caring little about what he disagrees with
this world is awakening to a grave moral deceit against the house of Our Lord
Bedlam and mayhem in the mistress's boudoir
(Nsync with variations on a theme:
various and sundry
pseudo lurid fictitious escapades)
mostly I did merrily wet
whet madness aye ever did dream.)
The missus personal trappings
strewn helter skelter
every perilous step fraught
with danger analogous
riding as passenger
with death cab for cutie
'course thy quasi bohemian rhapsodic Queen
of denial feigns ignorance
attributes hazardous condition
linkedin with accident prone
little lord Fauntleroy's
double doppelganger, me
trumpeting pet husband,
her unrequited germane Liebchen
willing to risk life and limb
doting hand and foot
as proper husbandly duties.
He (ahem... me) exhibits drama
whimsically visiting slapstick pantomime
especially pretending to remove sneakers
pulling with all my feeble strength
off little feet of wife
half-heartedly struggling,
lamely denouncing marriage
nevertheless conveying jollity
regarding marital entrapment
er... rather unbridled wedded bliss
constituting fits and starts enduring
about two dozen years.
I reciprocated amorousness,
whether toward MaryAnne,
(his long ago coldly dismissed
sagacious enchanting first paramour,
(half a dozen years my senior),
whose astrological forecast
accurately predicted promising
acquaintanceship/relationship
potential soul mates
(two score years ago -
gone to naught),
which latter aforementioned humble lass
decried he fomented
incessant emotional grief,
he cruelly (albeit unwittingly)
doled out nothing
but lackluster lovelessness
attributed to identical zodiac signs (Capricorn)
(matter of fact shared same birth date
January 13th - six years age difference)
stubborn misconstrued perception,
whereby fancy free and footloose
selfish nasty short brute nevertheless
deemed himself undeserving of love - humph!
Addeneum: Approximately four decades
re: one quarter century after
aforementioned baptismal initiation
love stricken paroxysm
forty fifth president of United States
took (i.e. plagiarized) many pages courtesy,
cruel playbook authored
by Matthew Scott Harris,
In spite of enjoying a very happy life
There are things I wish I had done
Like running naked through the Trevi Fountain
Or climbing the pyramids with a Nun
Walking the length of The Great Wall of China
While playing the Scottish bagpipes
Or exploring the famous Carlsbad Caverns
Dodging stalactites and stalagmites
The Colosseum in Rome is another site
That I've yet to see first hand
Remember the Beatles played a concert there
Now that was an amazing band
354 stairs in the Statue Of Liberty
Could climb them without a problem
Might need to have some oxygen handy
When I get back down to the bottom
Big Ben is an absolute must for my list
Like to hang from its giant minute hand
And straighten up the Leaning Tower is Pisa
While holding a pizza in one hand!
Then there's St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow
An amazingly colourful structure
Commissioned long ago by Ivan the Terrible
Ivan's name sure makes me shudder
So now you know why I gotta stick around
To see all these very famous landmarks
So I can accurately construct every one
At the home when I play in my sandbox
© Jack Ellison 2015