Long Albeit Poems
Long Albeit Poems. Below are the most popular long Albeit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Albeit poems by poem length and keyword.
Pursuit for elusive prey
teases yours truly
into treacherous catacombs
dangerous mentally
challenging pitfalls,
sets small hairs of back
on camp creeks edge
of night, where dark shadows
evoke outer limits
of twilight zone
prompting me constantly questioning
purposefulness, qua hair raising pursuit
embarking these modern roman times
all for naught,
nonetheless I chide self
failing to heed
emotional, mental, psychological...fallout
in sum re: springing Jack in the box reflex
to sally forth and earn kudos,
asper potential Prince Valiant.
Thus situated with blank computer screen
capacious external Lenovo for myopia
(and incessant squiggly floaters to boat),
this literary glutton for punishment
feverishly fixates to plumb depths
measuring morin 10,000
leagues under the see
ming lee impossible mission
to ensnare nearly extinct
fluttering, lyfting, shutterflying...
smarts to outwit unsuspecting
beak henning quest
tendering, tasting uber victory
quivering crossbow
targeting yawping
zoological discovery - channeling
primed with taut fletched arrow
on high alert for stool pigeon
cautiously optimistic kickstarting
another futile attempt dagnabbit
experiencing prestige,
oh...and by the way...,
no animal harmed
regarding made for video poem
gamely capturing quarry scotched,
nor gruesome scene
synonymous quasi abattoir
representative bird den sum
bloodless coup deeming
endeavor par excellence.
Fingers madly scramble
to poach skittering idea
fry day most ideal
omelette ya know,
aye feel yolked to defeatism,
one after another faux
promising brainstorm egging
quickly flitting inaccessible
potential flash in frying pan
just as fast dashing
into bajillion pieces
shell shocked scrivener
scribbling lame as duck
goose laying golden egg...
dropping immediately out of sight,
maybe best resigning forlorn
inchoate never albumen,
albeit quite linguistic stretch for
(all be human success story)
prospects beyond reach
ova this wretch
New York Times
bestseller author jinxed
forever dooming yours truly
grinding poverty my ill fate.
Here in the quietness
like that of a silent root
growing deep into the earth,
I sit in the womb of my room,
contemplating a tributary
flow of imaging words
from the lexical river of verse;
sending streaming messages
to the belly of starving eyes
Suddenly, and as quiet
as a shooting star
across the sky’s vastness,
a small black spider
eight-track its way across
a clear white wall,
disappearing into liberation
If only our own liberation
could be as swiftly energizing,
rather than like the quiet
slow movement of a full moon
seemingly struggling across the sky,
reflecting the sun’s allegorical message;
albeit its waxing and waning
The sun has always
had that bright symbolism
of resurrection—liberation—
new beginnings;
even though its journey
over valleys, across rivers, seas,
and over hunchback mountains
ends in a down setting
over the ever waiting horizon
While panging venomous verse plots
to distort imagery messaging
in the lexical flow, anti-venomous
discernment, as quiet as a spider’s heart-
beat, opens a floodgate of wisdom
Thus, it is revealed
that each sunset and each sunrise
marks another triumphant day
in the struggle, and despite
the darkness the moon’s waning brings,
there’ll always be bright tomorrows
bringing one closer to the liberation quest
That something as venomous
as a black spider could be,
should initiate the webbing of
the tributary flow of this meandering
hopeful verse, is no less than a mandate
for pregnant poetic minds
to continue to ink the liberating word
Marvel's Fantastic Four: Mr. Fantastic, The Invisible Woman,
The Human Torch and The Thing.
The best memory of the Fantastic Four cartoon characters
that can be best realized, of good measure, was their
live production. Unfortunately, not one episode
is resurrection-able of their cartoon version.
However, that filmed production wherein human characters
portrayed their cartoon counterparts as singularly
different. Granted that there'd be others that
were produced on the silver screen
whereto calls into question
my 'good measure'
ergo, google
ID it to be
a 2005
film.
First off, ...
The Invisible Woman was visibly
fetching and was indebted to
Mr. Fantastic's character,
yet not by definition.
The Thing's character was quick to temper
and getting stoned whenever ...
The Human Torch,
combust.
Albeit, Mr. Fantastic's human counterpart was
misleading as his appearance rendered him
to be fantastic-ally half his portrayed age
and that protege veneer was studious.
The contrast between Mr. Fantastic's cartoon character,
stems from Dr. Ben of The Jonny Quest Adventures
who shares that '60s science-like qualities
whereto Mr. Fantastic bears a streak
of gray hair--defining age factor.
Furthermore, the content of that movie is fleeting other than
the fact that The Human Torch is excessively
--cold.
Sadly, the complete genre of cartoon episodes no longer
occupies my memory banks--blank. Whether they'd
be televised or store-shelved, it'll also include my
children's. Most characters are more noticed
than the show/comic/toy they delivered.
Noting their identifiable names, Popeye versus the
boys' Pac-Man and the girls' Barbie, and beyond
that ... nothing,
"C'est la vie, mon ami/amie."
"That's life, my friend."--> Masculine/Feminine: French translated
Ziggy was a sexually curious alien
A celestial rock star from sanguine Mars
a Stardust being who journeyed to Earth
A Moon Age Starman made a five-year voyage
described in Bowie's playlist as having
"a screwed down hairdo like a cat from Japan"
Bowie took on the iconic persona of Ziggy
who landed in an alley of cardboard boxes.
Maybe it was his idea of a Suffragette City
The album cover's artwork was meant
to give a view of Bowie's thoughts
on politics, drugs, sex, and his fame in the 70s.
But Ziggy felt his telescopic view of Earth
hadn't prepared him for what he found
on what he thought of as a 'voodoo planet'
Go figure, since he had spiders for friends
The fret of his guitar was silenced
by the fretting he did over feeling lost and alone
Ziggy was a space invader,
Bowie's alter ego who explored themes of fame,
identity, and societal expectations.
Back cover instructions read...
"TO BE PLAYED AT MAXIMUM VOLUME.”
To which many replied, albeit perhaps without words:
"Aye aye, Captain!"
Not meant for my ears at those decibels
A PUPIL’S PROGRESS-a phrasis
Good work,a praiseworthy effort,
sadly exam nervousness held him
back .He can think quickly,albeit
sometimes not clearly, when he
thinks before he inks!
He grasps new ideas ,solves problems
logically,never flags, meeting
difficulties with enthusiasm;outstripping
others by steady application,rather than sheer
brilliance, such effort can cost him dear.
Mastering essentials ,he sets his bar,quickly
learning from his mistakes.He is responsible
and organised,always pleasant and courteous,
and thoughtful of others. In his own quiet
way, a born leader, a boy of character &
commonsense.We think highly of him.
You may listen to me read this structured prose phrasis on youtube under pen name ichthys
Reprehensible Savagery ©
'Pon reading tragic headline...,
aye experienced grief alone,
no matter the killer (Chris Watts,
thirty-three years
of Frederick, Colorado) unknown
to me, the sheer brutality,
whereat he killed Shanann Watts,
Bella and Celeste,
his once adorably beautiful,
now ceased wife
and daughters ages thirty four,
four, and three respectively
(purportedly via strangulation)
reflexively did i groan
particularly, the propensity to kill
with in sinew weighted bone
times gone by,
where expletive laced epithets
incessantly did drone
nearly activating trip wires,
a blood dripping knife,
would be shown
to police, unless...I took my life,
cuz immediate regret would well up
resulting with an agonizing moan...
hence after perusing morbid
(somewhat inexplicably fascinating)
screaming tragedy ado
admit sadness overtook this chap,
what wrought motive,
(albeit premeditated)
for him to construe
such an atrocious, ferocious,
heinous, et cetera grew
some crime toward innocent wife
(she supposedly knew)
intuitively felt and possibly
foresaw the slew
how her life (a grotesque
mass square aid )
would meet one gross violent death
intimating marriage frayed
ranking as "FAKE,"
or Eff for failing grade
yet tidbits publicized twas shaky match
from get go, no heaven made
nor wedded bliss -
her precious life paid
as well two preschoolers
(cute as a button),
and expectant third progeny (male fetus)
existence extinguished by, "killer"
the husband, who went
into a deadly tie raid
now guilt upon
his conscious heavily weighed.
Though amply rested, I still yawn
And feel energized after
light exercise doth spawn
break through viz mental impasse,
where endeavor to coax
germinating ideas to sprout
about as successful as
buzzfeeding, jump/kick starting
rooting brown lawn
to whether drought.
Long fostering literary creativity
analogous to prying open
figurative curtain drawn
shut tight within
thy noggin unresponsive
even when brute force
strongly applied, but still...
no progress (for aging Pilgrim)
made come crack of dawn,
thus I temporarily abandon intent.
An effort to craft satisfactory poem or prose,
(which coveted, kindled, unexpected...
futile endeavor deluges me when
least able to jot down eureka,
whereby brainstorm burst adrip
saturating yours truly head to toes
dribbling out nostrils,
asper my porpoise size bottle nose,
hence this feeble effort to appease.
No expected attaboy, kudos, bravoes...
discerning metaphorical whaling expedition
beseeching, imploring, soaking...
mine mindscape with
profuse voluminous wisdom
sans anonymous followers
waiting for me to compose
usual meaningless gibberish or
rare profound nugget of wisdom to disclose.
While thrashing within cyber sea,
possibly abandoning ambition to compose
superbly laced, ginned, coined...
poetic adage gee oh
into magnum opus masterpiece
eye catchingly exotic creation
exquisite as silk negligee pantyhose
(yea...perhaps yours truly
will also send near nude selfie,
a worse fate than death
cab for cutie)
and chuck stock inhibition
brokering favorable frescoes
tattooed across flesh
accentuating anatomical contours of flab
wharf flexing muscles simulates geckoes,
(albeit selling progressive insurance)
appearing to slither across body electric
predictably ejaculating Freudian peccadillos,
now bolt upright - ******** awakened,
no longer sleepy,
but dwarfed by giant spuds,
no small potatoes
eh...yar right to deem this poker face
eccentric - born (free) this way,
how Elsa to explain (without lion)
rambling riotous rumination
one among many bumptious desperadoes,
and oh...mooch hoe gracias reading poem
bumbling, degenerating, fizzling...
into lobbying primal salvoes.
And the world stood still
When the liar took centre-stage
Cameras flashing
Tapes rolling
Recorders battling to take down his voice…
They all know
That lies unending endlessly flow
From his bottomless tank
Rolling off his tongue
As a bard chants royal praises…
They all took it in
Clapping for their hero
Waving his hands in the air
Smiling sheepishly
In the knowledge that the truth
Shall never surface…
But he knows not
That the truth is right behind
His back
Like a hump
Sitting beautifully on a hunchback
It is right with him…
Albeit the truth is despised
The many crowd hailing the sweet liar
Bail him not
Never will they
When the bell tolls
When the alarm rings
And the truth tackles the man
On whose lips falsehood thrives…
The crowd then shall sing
And dance in glee
As the white-robed liar
Becomes the brown-ragged beggar
In the hands of truthful revolution…
Await the day
For it is currently lying-in-state
Readying its fangs
Like a tormented king cobra
Waiting to strike
At the time so beautifully right…
So many documented cases when hope,
Was prematurely extinguished by Doctors,
So many documented cases when hope,
Was about to be extinguished by law,
But before sentence could be carried out on hope,
They witnessed hope's flame burning brighter than ever,
Resulting in more questions than answers on the nature,
And purpose of hope.
As far as faith in miracles is concerned.
Yet I still have no definitive answer to my question,
Should we ever decide when others should give up hope,
Except that to err is human,
And forgiveness of those who get it wrong,
Or have clear evidence that hope has moved on,
And hidden it for misguided or mischievous reasons,
May be the only way,
With hopefully a realization over time that hope,
Albeit fickle or not, is what keeps many a human in the game,
Long enough for miracles to come to fruition.
Arduous agonizing affliction
doth unrelentingly assail...
aghast to exhale lest...lose
desperate clinging clutch
held by bloodied cracked fingernail
phantasmagoric tendrils constrict
stoppering me to whisper or wail
yawning abyss menacingly beseeches
hmm...release could immediately curtail
cumulative (lifetime's worth) travail
freefalling, pirouetting unnervingly,
unstoppably, unwaveringly... zipping
into infinite black hell hole ail
mince vanish as doth guilt - a hail
storm peppering psyche... jail
time for eternity excluded option
asper garden variety baby boomer male,
albeit the father of deux darling daughters,
the eldest (broke vow of silent communication),
she reached out after months long hiatus telltale
indications to accept genuine apology
her papa (me) rages against hurtfulness, he
affixed indelible psychological scars each travail
boomeranged backed to yours truly duress
during her impressionable years, she did rail
and rant previous conversation, the scale
innocent intelligent progeny, we begat
(myself and misses) financially ill prepared
to provide respectable accommodations
"dirt poor" status detrimental
with affluent MainLine
incomes luxe Lower Merion
living costs fateful design
neighbors cursed, ostracized, vilified...
unsightly unkempt property (i.e. unmanicured)
intolerant snobs didst malign
child welfare services called NOT to dine
but emphatic for papa and mama to align
dwelling safe and secure for minors
yes, I attest despicable living conditions
crowded house with Zison heirlooms
owners - malignant hoarders did confine
considerably reducing cubic feet,
they relations of spouse evicted us
ready to point carbine
at temple...quicker than noose
dead of winter 2010 near homelessness
relocated within "roach motel" decline
among our dynamics with offspring
livid with rage, asper an inferno no divine
comedy compounded by lascivious
behaviour - mine to hasten dateline
enduring helplessness, hardship
being alive plus brandishing knife
against self witnessed...I assign
poor marks as paternal parent,
who bemoans loathsome
impact...this papa gropes toward hotline!