Long Admission Poems
Long Admission Poems. Below are the most popular long Admission by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Admission poems by poem length and keyword.
Metaphors and similes flow freely from my pen
when I am scripting and scribing in poetic verse.
Across the width of pale parchment pages
the nib of my feathered pen continues to traverse.
Ink courses fathoms deep within me like life blood,
rushing through the eddied channels of my veins.
I struggle to ignore the cramping in my fingers.
There's no hesitation when writing echoing refrains
when I imprison myself in poetry.
Each stanza I carefully arrange in proper sequence
as if it's a bairn born for the creation of my story.
Sometimes my gypsy muse joins me in the dance
when I write with abandonment in wild allegory.
I never try to rein her in when we're both focused
and driven to complete a poem, oblivious of time.
With vivid imagination, romantic sonnets are birthed
as I sit penning line after line in consummate rhyme,
incarcerated at my desk until I've written the last line.
My thoughts tumble like flurries of pristine snowflakes.
With a single spark of romance my passion ignites
as each completed verse falls perfectly into place, it lifts
my need to write compositions of love to greater heights.
Day and night, I find myself a wanderer, lost in reveries
where I journey in a private kingdom of verbose amplitude.
Around each curve in the road is a new challenge to be met,
and yet, none thwart me when trysting in romantic interlude.
Rude would be the one who would disturb me
when I'm handcuffed to a work in progress.
I try to indite with some semblance, dare I call it skill or talent?
By no means am I an accomplished laureate by my admission.
As a mere poet, I do not strive to compose a magnum opus,
but a meaningful collection of verses as a worthy composition.
If by chance, my poetry is interpreted and appreciated by some
who view my emotional imagery with soulful eyes of admiration,
I will credit my gypsy muse with her conspiratorial whispers
and amorous experiences as the impetus for my inspiration.
I hold the key to unlock my self-inflicted prison door,
and used when at last my pen has been laid to rest.
He hides in the shadows with all he has become.
But lives in the daylight someone he is not.
He runs from pain and truth until he is empty.
He spins lies into a spider web to catch anyone he can.
His choice was made long ago to believe the certain ones.
Those who taught him not love, but something twisted.
All the things his mind could never conquer to undo.
So he still thinks he is right, whether rage fuels the fight.
Hidden in the shadows, he thinks he is out of sight.
Until the web is torn and the sun beats the pavement.
With no place to run, no shadows to be found for cover.
There he stands, intentions exposed, for who he is.
He meets the maker on earth, in the bare light upon him.
With only his own shadow, he now must choose to face.
Still, it’s not moving and he cannot win the tiring race.
Until he kneels with admission, to fully own the disgrace.
Taking all that he’s done to those waiting to hear.
Willing to confess while accepting the consequence.
Untying all the twisted lies once taught, not meant for him.
Until there is no more price to pay, but another way.
Unlike anything he has ever lived or any road every taken.
Heidi Sands
Stop. Take a minute,
Travel with me now.
When life becomes a hindrance,
We’ll find a way somehow.
Come along and join me,
A place that’s full of glee.
I call it Moment Mountains,
Admission here is free.
It’s where I go inside me,
I fashioned every piece.
The lake and all its splendour,
Is always mine to keep.
One day while I was hurting,
Lost in all my grief.
I stumbled on a hillside,
A puddle at its feet.
I surveyed the land around me,
Potential in the tones.
I knew I’d found salvation,
I knew I’d have some fun.
I began to go there often,
And every trip I took.
Something had been added,
I let my mind amuck.
I started dropping pebbles,
A rock and tiny tree.
Then came all the flowers.
My tree grew into three.
The hill was now a mountain,
To which I sprung its twin.
The puddle now a river,
I couldn’t help but grin.
This world was now a filter,
A dwelling of my own.
Something I could cherish.
Something I had grown.
The mountain peeks were snowy,
My favourite spot to think
To gaze down at my river,
And forget the will to sink.
To not let bad times sway me,
Corrupt me with their acts.
But to sit and take a moment,
My mountains are to thank.
Form:
Entertainment in My Youth
By Franklin Price
revised and reformatted to poetic prose
(an experiment for me)
5/28/2017
Entertainment came quite easy, I could do it for myself. The public library had lots of books, they stored them on the shelf. I could check them out, and from them, could travel anywhere. See the world through reading and never leave my chair.
I could go outside and eat an orange, or I could ride my bike. A safer place it was back then; could go anywhere I liked. Could go across the river, a week-end show to see, a dime spent on a Saturday was admission there for me. Cartoons and several serials; Flash Gordon comes to mind. Still in downtown Cocoa, the building you will find. Movies shown no longer, plays are there for you to go. The State Theater still entertains; so go enjoy the show.
After the show was over, to Goulds old store we went. Such a magic place for kids, some allowance there we spent. Had military equipment and special things galore. If we had been the least bit rich, we may have bought the entire store.
If we were lucky, when we left, to cross to the Island side, the draw bridge would be opening and the tender let us ride. We stood in the middle as the bridge swung half around, blocking the cars, passing the boats to far off places bound.
At night we had a radio; no TV 'til fifty-three. We would gather close and listen to special programs there for me: The Shadow knew, Lone Ranger too, fights on Friday night. The music of the Grand Old Opry made listening just right. We played some games both board and card; the donkey's tail did pin. I was the youngest, not as smart, sometimes they let me win: Monopoly, Checkers, Old Maid, and cards of War. The table's space was not enough so we played them on the floor.
If we needed money there was a jelly factory near. The product made from guavas; the need for them was clear. The trees grew wild, or maybe not ,with buckets we would go; fill them up and take them to the factory for some dough.
Much more entertainment I could tell you without fail. Some things we did there, in the past, may now get days in jail. So I think I'll stop for now and let you imagine all the rest. My childhood life was more than good, it was the very best.
Outside the sanctum, clenched teeth, tension,
a sense of being spun slowly, in comical ocean drift
Bobbed cork barely able to rein my orientation.
Luckily, current flux of haphazard happening flapped
a variable vantage.
Blown as though by silk hankie butterfly blessing
launched under lead light detail dragonfly wing
Inside the sluice.
tender seagrass arms greet me, surprise caressed
Silky entry to a tepid tub, a calm community
of smug inner sanctum club members, afloat.
Blind to bedlam, their faces automatically accepting
Smarmy, aloof, knowing the code
Clicked into correct holding pattern
Galvanized now among the longed for,
unlocked passage
Boasts a right angled me, porthole refuge
Catatonic sanctum immune to struggle
Bay of steady abundance
Top step mission for admission somehow granted mine
Spotlight shon on my cloned social demeanor,
Meticulously honed modesty of highbrow gallery.
24th February
Written for Contest: Gateway
Sponsor: Constance La France
above named entitled african american orthodontist
crowned specialist exemplary de jure by this dad
sans perfecting offset dentition of me daughter – shana – who had
quite noticeable gapped teeth – just the opposite when i was a lad
and pro bono courtesy of above named orthodontist –
worthy of a regal pad
(okay perhaps i exaggerate just a tad)
performed prestigious dental skill with her band
of admirable merry technicians, who possess grand
ever so agile and gentle to affix and/or adjust with each hand
after countless visits viz number of years shifted closed spaces
re: wide spaces did stand
brackets wired together where squarely rooted choppers stood askew
the completed effect = a priceless smile 2 thy punim – a beau
tee full young lady (this comment unbiased from me – math a ewe)
biological father of thine lass in question, where time flew
while transformation per dazzling smile grew
a changed facial profile – admirable how maxillary masters did hue
artfulness to align mastication via calculus
sans perfecting her bite they knew
thus this papa feels ever so thankful for prettifying mine offspring
with courtesy service per each appointment thee progeny i did bring
no matter that brackets broke loose – yes in some cases from chew wing
gum or eating hard foodstuffs - fear of a skull ding
never occurred, whereby anticipatory anxiety expended 4 naught ting
mortis rigors of extraction, x-rays affecting dental precision
would be impossible without the decision
for the supreme doctor – who owned a schooled vision
to envision
vis a vis what provision
and necessary measures toward tha per mission
whereby maybe a minor revision
made to witness brilliant megawatt smile giving admission
of heightened sunny disposition
primed to embark on successful lip smacking dating expedition
anointing shana aubrey harris – who completed the biting inquisition!
MERRY MIND
Your heart is merry
your cheeks are cherry
with joy as ripe as berry
your lip drip with jelly.
Ours is a resounding congratulation
on your successful admission
we will be there during your matriculation
with more tears of joy at your graduation.
Sleep not before the light of knowledge
education is not a pie or sausage
its worth is not a pen to borrow
its legacy lives on after tomorrow.
Congratulations! Our earnest prayer
cultivate the habit, be a priceless reader
Read, don't depend on any, be the reader
in the way you have sown, you will be a reaper.
(from a heart that cares: Edoja faith)
They wanted the best for their children,
hovering through the toddler years,
giving them what they wanted,
giving more to avoid any tears.
When their kids became teens, they wanted fame,
building an image for their now empty life,
devoid of moral direction and sense of duty,
leading to personal crises and strife.
The university published standards,
too high so they decided to cheat.
They paid a fixer to get their child in,
using money as a bribe to be discreet.
But the scam was discovered, made public
and the greedy parents, now distressed,
listened to lawyers and admitted wrongdoing
and standing before cameras, adroitly confessed.
I'm sad for the children of these parents,
underachievers and misguided, for sure.
Unprepared for an independent future,
with no inner peace and morally immature.
I looked in America’s mirror tonight
What I saw was only left or right
Reflecting a nation irreparably divided
With no desire to again be united
I longed for a touch, just a touch, of awareness
An admission that ‘I might once have been wrong’
What I witnessed was unbridled aggression
From each side, a fiercely combative song
I searched for a hint of humility
A confession: ‘Maybe I don’t have all the solutions’
What I beheld was feisty defiance
Candidates lip-syncing dubious science
I hungered for clear answers to questions
A yes that’s a yes, a no that’s a no
What I heard was ‘MY agenda is what to invest in’
Implied was ‘To hell’s where YOUR question can go…’
I looked in America’s mirror tonight
silently praying for some kind of light
What looked back was darkling belligerence
accompanied by saber-rattling dissonance
Congratulations
On your admission
I am sure you are eager about resumption
And some of you already dreaming about matriculation
Keep it up for it is the season of celebration
But don't be scared, should there be delay in your graduation
And don't let it affect your vision
Neither your ambition
For it shall all end in jubilation
Now as you resume
Of course without much Resume
And you have a lot to assume
But know this, garri is a must for you to consume
It is a must you take garri
Even if you are from warri
Furthermore in case you don't know
OAU Mosquitoes?
They are not from this planet but pluto
For they can visit you anytime even when doing touch your toes
Or maybe when you are close
Issorite...If you know you know
And should you not know
that in OAU we lay low
Because we are all equal
Although some do take liquor
Notwithstanding even if you are governor's daughter
It does not matter
Because on the eportal
Who you epp does not matter
Ehn ehn...Ancient car park
To know more about it
Contact me (07032277508) to get it
At ancient car park
The Innocents become No-saints
You'll understand more When you come
Because over there some of you will still cum
The blood sucking monsters of OAU
Are also waiting for you
And again contact me to get the poem on it
But briefly...
They are OAU bedbugs
Your soon to be indispensable companions
Yes! because they will follow you anywhere and everywhere you go
Just like MTN
Contact me for more...
But for now I rest my case
As I remain my humble self
ABSOL