Long Advanced Poems
Long Advanced Poems. Below are the most popular long Advanced by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Advanced poems by poem length and keyword.
Moggnome was a wee little soul from Tashee,
standing on tiptoes, he might reach to your knee.
Pomegranate face, fringed by dandelion fluff,
a thickly thatched head, and like that wasn’t enough,
for it grew on his hands, and his ankles and feet,
bird nest like brows, it also clung to his cheek.
If he’d ever given thought to a cut and a shave,
there would be enough clippings, to fill up a cave.
For Moggnome had much more hair, than most,
it would stick to the knife, as he buttered his toast.
If he washed from a sink, it would clog up the drain,
so when storm clouds appeared, he’d shampoo in the rain.
It was wild and unruly, with a mind of its own,
like a candy floss head, crowning a paper stack cone.
But below the surface of this savage, dense mane,
beat a stalwart heart, tempered by an astute brain.
Strolling one morning, Moggnome’s mind gave a lurch,
for swinging from a bough, like a bird on a perch,
sat the fairest young maiden, of gnome lore it seems,
a charcoal haired beauty, he would seek as his queen.
With a smile kissed by angels, she gave him a nod,
and his spirit soared skyward, as though sunk in a bog.
Her eyes glimmered like emeralds, imbedded in moss,
but how to woo this sweet vision, he felt at a loss.
At that very moment, a troll charged out at full gear,
his aim was that pendant, now screaming with fear.
Moggnome rolled at the troll, like a tumbleweed mass,
the impact as he struck, even felt by the lass.
They twirled and they spun like a trundling wheel,
and as they came to a halt, attack lost its appeal.
Shaken and bewildered, the troll bolted retreat.
Not a word would he mention, of this humbling defeat.
As Moggnome brushed off dust, from head to thigh,
his breath whooshed out, in the form of a sigh.
The maiden stood anchored, in the shimmering light,
While she gazed at her hero, with awe and delight.
She advanced like a vision, a nymph from his sleep,
and with a kiss to his brow, his hair curled like a sheep.
Some say they were wed, at that very same place,
where Moggnome won honour, and his sweetheart’s grace.
I did not, in any sense, desire a fight with my eye
The eye that keeps greedily taking glances,
Seeking to convince my soul to allow
Beauty,
fleeting pleasure,
and the glory of youth.
For indeed, youth is glory:
A flower that blossoms for a season.
For there lie a myriad forms of fruit,
And every fruit begins at a seed.
A seed suffers shame in many ways;
At times, a bird may take it as a snack.
A choice, in a way, must be made at the level of the seed:
Either be consumed, or be sown.
Both paths satisfy an innate desire.
A youth may take it as a snack;
An elder may sow it and allow it to rot for formation.
One fulfills a fleeting pleasure;
The other postpones urgent gratification.
In every path, some desire is embraced.
Yet at the sunset,
One is further advanced in multiplication,
While another adores only flashbacks.
In all, a need is met
Your Highness, the Triads of the Milky Way galaxy “Planet Earth”
Have evidence of Your “GRAND” - Grand - Father’s” ‘“ E T E R N I T Y “ ‘
As Your Shrine Shines in the heat of a desolate “Forbidden Dessert of Life”
Crumbled , broken, eroding “ The Shrine of Your Beloved “ FOREFATHERS “
I as YOUR Servant : as the Knowledge , YOU bestowed upon my “Foreheads’ “
The Triads have advanced ; their technology today equals Yours of “ History “
How long before they realize ; the devastation they avoid : they also “Created”
Shall they think they have found the “ Forever answer “ to Eternal, Everlasting “
How do YOU tell them that the Dreams they Dared to Dream, were not “Reality”
Know that they can see the “T R U TH“, in Death, not the DEATH of Your “TRUTH”
The third Planet from the Sun ; we call the “ Raven Star “ unraveling it’s destiny
As they did to the Lineage of YOUR “GRAND - Grand - Father’s” “ANCESTRY”
Will they SURVIVE?, Will they See, Know, Speak and PRAY TO their “GOD”
Do they learn to LOVE one another, to Help each other? To keep History “ALIVE?”
“So VERY SAD to say ; My Friend , they do not Find the Key to EVERLASTING LIFE”
Author's Note : This POEM was Inspired by Two of My Favorite POETESSES
Carol Brown ( My MENTOR ) for Her Contest "STORY TIME " I dedicate this to YOU
Carolyn Devonshire ( My TEACHER ) for Her Contest "Sphinx Head on Mars?
Dedicated with LOVE to my POETESS LAUREATE "CAROLYN DEVONSHIRE"
They dressed it in flashing lights and sirens,
A crash in the night, the tunnel’s iron silence.
But oh, I knew—it was never the speed,
It was the order, cloaked in noble creed.
I was not meant to love beyond the bloodline,
Not him, not us, not a heart outside their shrine.
A kiss under the moon became sedition,
And in their eyes, I was the queen of opposition.
The cameras clicked, but so did something else—
A plan, sharp as diamonds on a duchess's shelf.
They watched me through walls, through wires,
Monarchs don’t forgive what the heart inspires.
He was the wrong name, the wrong hue,
And I? I was once their golden view.
But a rose with roots too deep in truth,
Is clipped before it bears forbidden fruit.
A sniper, yes—not with guns but with minds,
Their bullets are papers, pixels, bloodlines.
The crash? A performance for the blind—
But ghosts know who lit the fuse behind.
Advanced were their tools, machines cold and clean,
Surveillance like gods, but no soul in between.
I speak now through shadows, through tear-stained stone,
A mother, a woman—silenced, alone.
But history listens where power forgets,
And I am still here in the hearts I beget.
Not all royals wear crowns of gold—
Some wear silence, eternal, bold.
I saw magical faeries.
Tripping in and around
Sparkling wings shining
In the dazzling sunbeams
That transversally filtered
Through the mighty beeches
Of a Bavarian forest.
A royal feast proclaimed.
The mighty Queen arrived.
And took her place on a throne
In a prominent part of the glen.
Sumptuous abundant delicacies
Appeared out of nowhere,
Cheeses and pixie pears,
And saffron flavoured cakes,
Plus, milk laced with honey.
Enchanting lively music
Advanced towards the glen.
Happiness and Felicity
Thrilled the expectant audience.
Soon, darkness fell around,
But innumerable, bright glow worms
Lit up the secluded grassy glen.
Dancing thus began in earnest.
Until they tired out and all returned
To their cosy leaves to dream
About their lovely Fairy Queen.
Son, for sure that was a blissful day;
When bawling you were passed into our arms,
To be creators of this fragile babe,
To hold another being's captive charm,
As no scriptures will record these miracles,
So let me pen some worthy notes of praise,
So in my age I'll look again and smile,
Re-living moments of fantastic times:
That you were born to us in perfect form;
That you had too been blessed with sturdy health;
That you did in your youngest years stay calm;
And did not seek to grow too soon to man;
That you did keep that loving child in you;
Who still would seek the comfort of our arms;
That you did hold that honest bargain true;
We, supportive parents of respectful child;
You, toiling consciously for our desires;
That you did heed those lessons that we shared;
Born from a wisdom of advanced years;
That you found time to light up hearts with care;
Whom fate had made less fortunate than yourself.
So that, on graduation day you did move all,
Who felt the artistry in your recital,
As black caps rained and cheers flew high,
Our hearts were filled with overwhelming pride.
The end of the tunnel's in view, oh my
The end of the tunnel's in view
Hair's turned white no teeth of my own
Beginning to shake in my shoes
The end of the tunnel's in view, oh my
Not ready to cash in my chips
Got some unfinished business to tend to
Afore making that final trip
Sadly we don't know the time or place
So be ready for the final bell
Just hope and pray all that good living
Was enough to keep you from Hell
Shouldn't be scared you've led a good life
But there's always that little doubt
Creeping into your thoughts every night
What would be nice is an advanced scout
Don't think I'll write anymore of this stuff
This is scaring me half to death
Now there I've used that word death again
Still kicking till my very last breath
The end of the tunnel's in view, oh my
The end of the tunnel's in view
There's no turning back it's much too late
Hope I'm not at the front of the queue!
Time’s masters, tamers of Nature;
Hunters upon deserts and rocky plains;
Enemies of failure and all the detractors of human stature;
United States; a united people;
Novelties of age but veterans of success,
Inclined to abolish depravities that cripple
The sons of men who with faith profess
Extra-precious abilities of mankind
Denied by the tyrants of ages behind.
Solemn fighters against the recalcitrant norms,
That have separated brother from brother
And maimed the fraternal warmth in homes.
Terrible storms you’ve braved;
Extensive are your boundaries,
So numerous are the paths you’ve paved.
Over division unity of all you’ve chosen;
Fallen are the fetters that bound so often.
America the land of bounty,
Millions are your citizens;
Ever filled with patriotism true and loyalty lofty.
Rich in glory and full of fame,
Invincible on both land and sea; of an indelible name;
Caring for the lame and mindful of the old,
Advanced in civilization; unmatched in silver and gold!
(I dedicate this composition to the dignified people of the United States of America)
Funny how some come to this land
smiling-humble and wide-eyed
attracted by the lady with the gentle flame in her hand.
Then while they build their fine homes
on a pricey piece of land.
They start listening to the dregs.
Blue cymbals start banging inside their heads.
They begin to dig a mind hole
Another spade of "woe is me" fills with dirt
Deeper into the mind hole they go.
Into the darkness of perceived oppression.
The wide eyes narrowing.
Not a hint of humility to be found.
Another spade slices deeper
stripes of anger and hate
replace that once smiling face.
They bark loudly about oppression from the pulpit of their fine homes
their vanity license plates and advanced degree
Mostly paid for by the working American man.
They cry about how everything is stacked against them.
There's a constant riot in their heads.
The mind hole deepens and widens.
A place where sunlight has no chance.
The real tragedy of it all
is that they hand the ungrateful spade over to their offspring.
The waters were solid and murky in the deep
But clear toward the top where the two-legged sleep.
No humans were around at this time of night.
They would have been astounded by this incredible sight.
A young dolphin had swum to the surface, attracted by light.
Waiting in anticipation, as the water began to turn bright.
Lit by the flames of a large dragon diving in from the moon.
His large blue eye came down to the dolphin, in a gentle swoon.
The trusting dolphin kept his eyes alert, but was not afraid.
He knew his secret talents were revered in this simple glade.
The dragon began to converse with him without using words.
The two communicated with telepathy, as do many fey herds.
The dragon wanted instructions as to whether the aliens were safe.
The dolphin told him that many were lovely, they were a human race.
A few others were abrupt, impolite, untrustworthy, and a tiny bit rude.
But they were pretty advanced for this planet, not totally crude.
Are they careful of other's feelings? The dragon wanted to know.
The dolphin told him that some had empathetic ways, aura of glow.
Most of the young ones are respectful and kind to each other.
Dragon thanked him, and the dolphin went back to his mother.
She slept soundly in the ocean so dangerously dark and deep.
The dragon went back to his planet, and reported to the King of Meep.
The King asked if they would be better living down below the water.
The dragon agreed it might be the best; I know for she is my daughter.