Long Advantage Poems

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


Her Eyes Were Like Fireflies

In all honesty,
I never learned your name.
I didn’t need to; 
The look in your eyes is your name 
Like fireflies, they twinkle and glimmer your name
A name I love saying 
The way you stare at me 
It’s like I’m the color yellow,
And I’m painting away the grey of your world 

That’s what you tell me 
As my head rests in the crook of your neck, and your fingers trail up the bare of my hip
You’re yellow, and sunshine to me you say
And I’m grey like a pebble, soaking up your rays

I laugh 
But grey is my favorite color I tell you 
It’s the color of the skies on the days I’m tucked in your arms, because its too cold and wet to go outside
It’s the color of my favorite blanket that I keep under my bed
Its only for special occasions
When I need to cry and shake and let the dreams of the night know I’m not okay 

You’re not just for special occasions though
You’re for every occasion. Every fight, every dance, 
Every laugh with my head thrown back and my fingers tightening around you for purchase because laughing with you is like an ******, it breaks me, it builds me, it loves me 
Even when you’re not here
I still think of you
I sit you beside me, and tell you thoughts, even when reality speeds around us, and you’re not really there 

Even now I can sit you beside me 
And trace the figures of your love with my eyes 
Black hair, straight and deep. Sometimes short, sometimes long; I can’t choose, you’re beautiful either way
Brown eyes, deep like the dirt flowers and dreams can only sprout in, that burn like the hearts of spinning stars
Tall, and I hate it, but you always use it to your advantage to capture me tight
I lied 
I love it 
Long fingers, and you pluck secrets and whimpers from me like notes from a harp 
God, I love them 
God, I crave them 

You’re my all dreams bundled into one, my opposite, my piece of the puzzle, my favorite melody, my infinite addiction
I can’t live without you
A day that goes by without you is another breath stolen from my lungs but what can I do because you’re not even real 

Like Pygmalion, I’ve fallen in love with my own mind’s tortured creation and now I can love no one but you 
I can stare at no one but you, and when the night falls, I can go to no one but you 
To Orsino, how can you say women can’t love like men?
I’ve fallen in love with a woman and now I’m dead.

September 25, 2018


The Tiger General

The Tiger General
Hobbes

The Tiger general strode onto the field of battle,
Tail flowing eloquently as he walked.
And then he turned to his men and began to speak,
They fell instantly silent as he talked.

The general led his men with a strong presence and iron resolve,
They fell into line at a quick command.
When they marched he always took the head,
And lead his men across the fields of sand.

His men followed him with love, respect and admiration.
His feats were the stuff that make up great tales.
Each fur who followed him took every order to a tee.
And when it comes to plans he never fails.

The tiger knew this battle was different then the last,
He felt the tides turn on the winds of change.
He knew that something horrible was about to happen.
He didn't know about the scope or range.

It was in the thick of the combat that he found it out,
and his face changed to one of hidden pain.
But he never showed his men a shred of doubt,
And each passing feeling he would detain.

He started loosing men at an alarming rate,
And he drew his blade and rallied the boys.
But the enemy had an advantage so large,
It made the master steel look like toys.

The guns were blaring left and right as the tiger stood his ground,
Never surrender he yelled to his men.
And nobody saw that he had shed a few tears
For brothers he would never see again.

The general never backed down and stood his ground,
He screamed that he would fight ''til his last breath.
And he fought with burning desire and passion,
He brought many a Soldier to their death.

And when it came time the tiger knew a showdown would occur,
As the two leader met amidst the fight.
The wolf opposite him unsheathed his own katana,
A true battle that would be quite a sight.

Each great leader was gifted with amazing skill,
They fought each other with tremendous guile.
And the further they got the more the tiger thought,
Soon enough the wolf will show his true style.

The battle went back and forth in a clash of sparks,
And then the wolf took out the tigers feet.
The cheater finally showed his true stripes and colours,
And brought the tiger general to defeat.

The tiger general's men rallied on to win the battle,
And even through death he drove them forward.
His men will always remember him as a friend and a brother,
And a man who truly lived by the sword.
Form: Epic

Ascent and Descent

We have a tendency to focus on our flaws, despite it being what makes us human; what we despise is what one desires, and what we desire is what someone despises.
I felt this way for years; I still do- the perpetuous feeling that I’m horrendous. 
When I look in my mirror, I don’t see my full lips, my long lashes, or my hourglass; I see my short legs, protruding stomach, and my eyebags.
Yet people with those flaws are beautiful- so why am I not?
The answer is that I am; I am beautiful, I am worthy, and I’m not horrendous- I simply haven’t been able to process my worth yet.
It seems that each passing year, I reflect on myself, making those negative remarks, rendering myself as unattractive.
Though, next year, I’ll look back on myself and realize how gorgeous I truly was; though it’s not that simple to prevent those negative feelings from pursuing. 
Does beauty even exist, though? 
It’s repeatedly changed over time, and it’s quite subjective, which has caused me to believe that true beauty doesn’t exist; it’s simply a perception.
I shouldn’t waste my time trying to ease the perceptions of others; I should follow my own, because short legs, protruding stomachs, and eyebags are beautiful; they’re only viewed in a negative way because society itself is ugly.
If I abide by every standard of others, I’ll only feel regret, for my happiness shall pulverize.
If I create myself to be someone who is healthy and who I love, my happiness shall thrive.
Though these insecurities will persist, even with the most attractive individuals- they’ll always haunt you, whether or not you believe in yourself.
So I dissected myself.
…
Carving every inch of me until my insides are out; but when I do so, my organs look the same as everyone else’s.
Bathing in perplexion until I realized; we’re all the same on the inside- and as I try to stuff my organs back inside of me, I remember what people say-
See, I’ve been told before, just like anyone else, that I’m ugly.
People take advantage of others' sensitivity in order to ease their insecurities; but they’re morons who don’t know what they’re talking about.
They try ridding of their “flaws” by projecting it on others, though those rigid thoughts will always remain inside.
But truth be told, we all have the same interior- and..
You’ll truly be happy if you stop caring about the perceptions of others.
© Reya Suri  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Click My Heels and Travel

I love to travel anywhere, the more foreign the better for me,
Strange lands and how other people live is very interesting to see.
This travel bug I caught got started when I was only eighteen years old,
A college friend and I went to the Bahamas, we were fearless and so bold.

Then I started my career and I knew to take advantage of this time,
Each year I’d set off somewhere new, after saving my every dime.
I traveled to beautiful Hawaii followed by South America the next year,
One of my favourites was Bermuda, I was young, memories so dear.

I flew over to England and stayed for a fortnight to visit a new friend, 
We toured all around Scotland traveling as far north as Land’s end.
After that I spent a lot of time in the Caribbean, the trips become a blur,
Many islands look the same, palm trees and beaches, others will concur.

Mexico was interesting studying the Mayans from Chichen Itza to Tulum,
Manzanillo to Puerto Vallarta, high cliffs where the waves crash and loom,
Got engaged in Myrtle Beach, so it holds a special place in my heart,
Then honeymooned in Jamaica where we spent not a moment apart.

Once the children came along, the travel plans required a major adjust,
We would go away on 5 year anniversaries, this was an absolute must.
A Caribbean five island cruise then the next trip two weeks in New Zealand,
But my favourite place remains the Greek islands, windmills, sun and sand.

Liechtenstein, Austria and Switzerland was a mother-daughter trip,
I showed her the ropes of travel and how much to leave for a tip.
Seems this travel bug of mine has proved to be a little bit contagious
My daughter now loves travel but her destinations are more outrageous.

While traveling is usually an educational journey, one that I just adore,
I’ve had moments in Egypt and the Holy land, that chilled me to the core.
But even during these very scary times, one thing that stands forever true,
The people there were kind and caring, someone always willing to help you.

I think that I still have a few more trips left in me, if my pocket book holds out,
Need to see eastern Europe, China and Africa, there’s more to learn, no doubt.
For the meeting of new people and learning their culture, gives my life new lease,
It provides the burden of proof that all should know, we need to work for peace.

Written by Lee Ramage 
For Contest "Close your eyes and click your heels"
© Lee Ramage  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

When the Evidence Went Missing [cont'D]

“All their comings and their goings were so closely scrutinised 
as the prosecution’s trump card was the evidence they prized.  
Though the wily prosecutor gathered facts to build his case,  
some old bushmen too were scheming and a plan was put in place.  
 
“They were crafty, artful dodgers, who’d been slipped a quid their way,  
and could see to it the evidence might somehow go astray. 
The bold band then took advantage of the absence of the guard 
for some twenty or so minutes and then broke into the yard. 
 
“In the small hours of that morning they absconded with the stock  
and the speed of the audacious theft had left police in shock. 
These bold bushmen used a vehicle which, much to their delight, 
lured the cattle through the darkened streets and quickly out of sight. 
 
“All available policemen joined the search to find their trail, 
but their roadblocks and sheer numbers proved to be of no avail. 
Then at sunrise the black constable, a tracker of renown,  
traced the mob out to the stockyards on the outskirts of the town. 
 
“All the cattle had been slaughtered and not one ear could be seen 
and a piece of hide was missing, where the owner’s brand had been. 
Still the heads and hides were proof enough … or so the lawyers thought,  
but the judge dismissed the evidence and threw it out of court. 

I just sat there flabbergasted as the old bloke rose to go, 
‘cause the way he’d told the story he was really in the know. 
But he sensed I sought the obvious and said “I need a drink.”  
Then he hobbled down the street away … and turned and gave a wink. 
 

In the book Champagne Country, which explores the history of Roma and district, there is 
a chapter on Bushranging.  In part it discusses how the notorious Harry Redford was tried 
in Roma, though found not guilty and also there was another account of an incident which 
took place in 1952.  A number of head of cattle being held as evidence in a cattle 
duffing offence disappeared from the Police yards about two a.m. in the morning while 
supposedly being  under constant guard.  The culprits were never apprehended.  Years 
later my wife’s dad, who went droving at the age of ten and a well known identity around 
Roma, shed a little light on the subject.  The above tale tells what took place.  Certain 
facts have been hidden to protect the guilty.
Form: Rhyme


Last Chance

3 strikes…you’re out!
I’ve given you way too many chances…
Do you expect more?
You left me empty-handed… your insufficiency advances…
3 strikes…you’ve ran out of chances
But I’m kind enough to buy you some more
Or maybe I have some in store

You’ve pushed it to the limits
I’M TELLIN’ YOU TO QUIT IT
When you throw your tantrums… your foolish fits 
I’m tellin’ you to lay off of me…
You treated me like dirt and grime
You have only one last chance…
Will you stop acting irrationally? 
Don’t screw it up this time…

3 strikes…GET out of my sight
Get out of my life – there’s the front door 
You’re killin’ me with your insanity 
3 strikes… don’t pout! 
Could you JUST leave me alone tonight?
I’ve given you a bunch of options,
But you were heedless of my vanity…
You’ve tortured me with your profanity 
You’ve punctured me with your
 lies and your brutality 
You’ve defeated me with your 
nightmarish reality 
Why do you hunger for my agony? 

3 strikes…there’s no way out
Of your devious trap…
You’re blaming me for your downfalls 
3 strikes…good riddance…get out!
You’ve never answered my calls,
So just desert me…
Let me escort you to the front door
Leave me alone…I don’t love you anymore

You’ve really tried my patience
I’m tellin’ you to leave me be…
You still don’t listen to me – I want you to flee
I want you to be set free
Get out of heart…
Get out of my house…
Get out of my head…
Get out of my life! 
You’re the magnet of strife
You’ve invited corruption in my life 
It strangles me like a thick rope around my neck
It stabbed me like a butchering knife… 
You’re so heartless and pathetic…you’re a wreck
I’m tellin’ you to bother someone else, you lunatic

You have lost your only chance, 
You repulsive prick 

3 strikes…you’ve got no luck 
I’ve given you escape routes and you weren’t grateful – 
You don’t even say, “Thank you” for all of the things I do for you
3 strikes…
YOU SNOOZE. . . YOU LOSE. . .
Are you still a ruthless soul? 
You’re hanging by a thread – and you haven’t got a clue

Go ahead!
Leave my presence, 
YOU nuisance! 

You're trying my patience...
I would leave if I were you...
I loathe your ignorance...

But, you just stand there like a fool!
You're taking advantage of me...
Throwing me out in the dumpster like a futile tool
--(Screw)-- you... Please leave me... 
You have added to my anxiety

You have done enough 
damage as it is...

Animus

A hiding place, a warm and darkened room,
A lit doorway, bright against the dark,
Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd
Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom

As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them,
Leering laughter giving in to vicious
Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls
Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem,

A terror once removed. Inside that hole
Distant from the proximal horrid window
Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight
Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll

Like waves around the cave, detached and born
Of safety via distance, of certainty
That out would never be in, that warmth was safe,
That war above, so far away, forlorn,

Could be watched as from a languid seat
Far recessed in a darkened empty theater,
Nestled snugly, listening to the voice
Which comments on the raging battle heat.

From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right,
But from the center, voice and fight both
Directly sensed, as if they each occurred
In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight

Being interchangeable and void.
The fighters jab and poke,  madly gouge,
And neither gains advantage, being justly
Matched, as both are faceless, the man

At left pitted fair against the shrewish
Plot of his opponent, evil woman.
Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning
Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss

Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven
Feud which now has stopped, as it began,
Abruptly, and receiving none, for in
The silence no answer can be given

(Besides which, being taken by surprise
And overcome by sudden fear, aware
Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute,
The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes

In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing,
Groping fiercely at his open throat
For no apparent reason; and the comfort
Of the soothing voice utterly halts.

Words without sound fly like spears between them
Accusatory fingers gesture madly
And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths
Wings through air in visual acid anthem

To this grisly deadly tandem fight
That seems the worse being set in relief
By the rectangular hole that serves as both
Window and door, divider of dark and light,

No protection, as threshold battle threatens
Him within, as blind hatred rages
In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails
While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.
© John Mudge  Create an image from this poem.

Mom

Mom

So many words to say, so many things unspoken
where were you when all I needed was your love
and devotion?
To protect me from all the evil and darkness in this world
But instead, you decided to sacrifice your own little girl…
To be your husband’s play toy, to be touched inappropriately
yet whenever I told you, you didn’t want to flee.
Instead, you joined in and then it became three…

I was a child, what was I supposed to do?
I had no one to tell, because that person was supposed to be 
YOU! You were the person I was supposed to tell those things to
whenever someone made fun of me, or took advantage of my body.
Instead, you decided that your husband was more important,
that you literally tainted our relationship
And you made it become potent!
How? What? And why?
Do you know what you did to me
made me want to die....

The torture of having to live with you every single day
but having no other choice because 
I had no one to pay my way
Of getting out of that hellhole…
How is it that I can still think about someone I HATE so ing much?
I can’t stand you for everything you did, and for every time
You touched….me. You’re an evil horrible
human being, and you didn’t deserve to be loved.

But yet you were adored and loved by our whole family
except for those who truly know what you and Keat did to me.
You see Mom, your job as a mother was to 
care for me, nurture me, love me
not abuse me, molest me, and let your husband have his way with me.
But even after ALL the f-ed up stuff you did,
strangely enough, you still raised a pretty awesome kid.
Yes, ME…that’s right, it is me. 
Because the difference between you and I mother
Is this……….

You only cared what was in a man's pants, whereas I actually 
care for, cherish, nurture, and love my children 
with ALL of my heart. 
Because if I EVER found out that someone did
to my kids, what you and your crappy husband did to me
They’d be buried 12 feet underground with a hole in their head.
But thank God, oh thank God, you’re already dead.

So now I will never have to worry about
my children growing up with you around,
because all you ever did was bring 
everyone and everything down. 
The only one true thing I could ever thank you for
is for giving me life, so I can raise my kids
to be better than both you and I.
Good Riddance and Goodbye.

Premium Member Bodhisattva Generalists

"Systems ecology recognizes that stable conditions
give advantage to highly specialized [yet cooperative] species,
but that changing conditions
favour species known as [cooperative] generalists
that can adapt to different food,
habitat,
or [and] other factors." David Holmgren, Permaculture, p. 63

Socially healthy humans
have become
and come from
cooperative generalists
as we remain communication generalists
as we articulate being and becoming 
healthy-wealthy regenerative generalists,
acting co-redemptively cooperative,
which economists define as co-invested cooperative,
and Christians delineate as co-redeemer cooperative politics,
which is also co-messianic,
which is also Earth's EcoMessianic Vocation
to become fully humane,
among Earth's Beloved MultiCulturing Communities,
cooperatively owned
and Golden Rule governing
as One CoMessianic Body.

Perhaps it is the ecological conclusion of PermaCulture Design
to believe in Earth and all inhabitants thereof
as One Messianic Body
as also well captured in the Bodhisattva nurturing tradition,
and other religious stories and themes
in which humans are seen as most fully human
as we become actively cooperative co-redeemers;
a people,
and individual persons,
who are of people now gone
who are for people and all creation here and not yet here
on Earth,
to co-invest,
co-redeem our grace as WinWin cooperators,
and not so much competitive divestors of capital treasures
hoarded for individualistic futures
or even for one's own direct patriarchal//matriarchal line
of future co-regenerators.

Seen this way,
this One Body Messianic
includes all those exposed to wisdom teachings,
whether scriptural
or mentored by healthy Elders,
and, even better,
by both,
living within Earth's natural-spiritual multiculturing Beloved Communities.

Meanwhile,
whether using a secular LeftBrain lens
or a sacred Elder RightBrain frame of BothAnd
bilateral heuristics,
we have and are two types of ecopolitical beings,
and becomings,
both socially cooperative
and anti-socially competitive.

We host daily and nightly lives
lived and dreamed
somewhere in-between all Yin Cooperative
and all Yang MonoCulturing.

But, redemption
remains in appositional tension with competition's divestment,
regardless of which economy
you choose,
and has chosen you.

All Love Lost

All of my love is lost, I no longer have a heart now 
Too many wounds from being on this battleground 
I've never been hurt, I wish I could say that was true 
You're who I'm drinking to forget,but my mind always comes back to you
I shouldn't have said that, I just gave you an advantage 
I'm just trying to make it through while stranded 
Tell people what they want to hear?, sorry but I'd rather speak Factually 
Emotional at times, but at other times I suffer from Apathy 
Who knew saving the Princess would be a Catastrophe? 
She didn't appreciate it and broke me in return
So now I'm using my pen to cause casualties
why would I water it down when you can see my burns? 
Depression leaves from time to time, and my mood starts to lift 
But then it comes back just as I think I've won, and think it's been missed
But how can I fault it when it's the only thing that came back to me after leaving? 
I'm writing a story, but I just spent a whole chapter bleeding 
These are just the habits of my heart
When I have one
I need to put my sadness in my art 
Where's my pad gone? 
Crying over a girl who's probably doing god knows what with the next guy
I was there when you needed me, mended you and offered you everything, how can I not be the best guy? 
You made me look stupid when you knew this was something I was scared about 
Now I'm out having meaningless sex with females I don't care about 
Females I won't care about 
Is this too much for me to air out? 
I don't believe in secrets, I'd rather let it all be known
Even if it's just so I'm no longer alone 
Lately I've cut the world off, But I still answer the girls who are sending nudes to my phone 
I've got an obsession with chatting girls up and I find sex therapeutic 
Let me be real, that's me hiding because every time I used my heart they abused it 
One day you'll wake up and realised you called it wrong
And that I was the perfect guy for you all along
But then it'll be too late, and you'll feel the type of hurt I'm feeling now
Even though I'm hurt, I've began healing now
You weren't a real queen, you were an imposter who went around stealing crowns 
With a pretty smile and fake love as a costume 
So now I'm listening to Drake's take care album at full volume 
You stabbed me in the back, so now you've been cut off
This is why all of my love's lost
© Alex Duffy  Create an image from this poem.

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