Long Also ran Poems
Long Also ran Poems. Below are the most popular long Also ran by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Also ran poems by poem length and keyword.
“God like, not so different”
She wrote,
“where do you go to my lovely?”
my response,
“I sink into the screen
like a scream queen goddess,
I am Lilith most of the time
tap dancing away and
singing off key unashamedly
loudly in life out of step, always
out of time, the ballyhoos
clap apathetically warning,
"watch out, incoming, car wreck!",
more like a shipwreck
broken-in-half, sunk in the deep,
treasures scattered on
the seabed, keys missing
loot unreachable
the flotsam of an ego
jetsam to lighten the
sinking load, arriving
amidst the shallows,
half cracked open
on the Ocean's shore,
waiting for the electric storm
to penetrate the brain, then
I become the electric storm
come to defibrillate the broken heart,
the haunting hero haunting heroes
dashed on their cerebral rocks
like Sirens alarmed all going off,
the feet both punctured,
walking over the sharp unopened
and opened broken shells,
mothers of pearls
bleeding stories,
their cornucopia unblessed
blessedly overflowing in the flow
of long nights' bittersweet darkness,
walking from room to room
talking in tongues,
strange and estranged,
adlibbing alienation
through boundless walls,
carrying a heavy cross like a ghost
in a residual haunting,
a storm in a teacup
sometimes passing,
the cake all eaten,
hungry for more
of something;
but on the 7th day I rest
and become God like
pleased with the turmoil
and calm I have jusifiably created,
there I will be seen
heavenly comotosed
resting under the duvee;
I am what I am,
then to the relief
of my monsters,
I fall,
I sleep …
I sleepwalk
commanding them all;
there is no escape.”
“you gotta larf,” she says, "how do you stop?"
the response,
“easier said than done, my friend;
the red shoes are killers to take off."
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
ljb - llb, klb, mlb
llb - gvlm
“Most poets are mad. It doesn't qualify us for anything.”
Anne Sexton
“Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.”
Anne Sexton
“I am not immortal. Faustus and I are the also-ran.”
Anne Sexton
The Three Graces
The Three Fates
The Morai
Mr. Willie At CREATURES NORM AND WILD - A Narrative Poem
One day at a pet shop,
I met a man(named Mr. Willie) selling cockatoo,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some cuckoo.
"Got any cuckoo?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No cuckoo here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely gecko,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some Caballero sparrow."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally energetic,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call epigenetic,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit happy.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty strappy.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the pet shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe says Mr. Willie."
"Cockatoo, cuckoo, you shall find.
Gecko, delgreco sparrow, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to CREATURES NORM AND WILD Market.
So to CREATURES NORM AND WILD Market I decided to go,
In search of the cuckoo I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling rings,
Cats in many shades.
There were even stalls selling wings
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar sales lady,
She seemed to be rather happy
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all strappy.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some cat nip!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
On the end cap by the tuna and cat/kitten mattress.
"But how did you know?" I asked, Huh!!
"Do you want them or not?" she did say. What!!!
Silently, the cuckoo escape flew passed. Did you see that...
Then vanished before I could pay. Hey!!
As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
MEOW! You see the cat also ran off out the door
Hey……………
11/22/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Mum, you bought me shoes, socks and a football kit,
'You were willing me to see me as your ‘hero’.
Fifteen years have passed away,
I still have your gift that you bought for me on Christmas.
Your son is a really hero, have you seen me,
I am top scorer as you can read in the local newspaper,
When I kissed my first trophy, my tears poured out,
My friends thought that I am crying in happiness.
Mum, have you remembered me?
As I know, I always missed your shadow,
I go to the pond every week,
Where you fed the birds and spent hours with them.
You never come to learn,
How your son spent days, weeks and years.
Perhaps you don’t know, dad also left me,
When you went out, he ran after you.
I saw his picture in a newspaper,
When I grew up a little, I heard from my carer,
Your dad died in an accident,
Have you come to attend his funeral?
I learnt when he left church nobody was behind him,
Only service that he received has been delivered,
I went often to kiss his stone, as I found him,
Few days ago it was a fathers day.
When I join my mate’s birthdays,
I saw their parents curdling them with gifts.
They dance and laugh, enjoy food and drink,
I feel loneliness and lost myself in puffs of smoke.
Always I got drunk but never forgot that incident,
When you tried to stop dad, not to drink more,
He pushed and slapped you strongly,
I saw blood touching your feet.
You don’t know, I also ran after you,
Door slammed shut, road was icy and frozen,
I hit a stone and fell conscious on the street,
When I found myself, I was in a hospital bed.
Mum, is your face looking the same as before?
How will I recognise you if I met you suddenly?
I am sure mum. You will recognise me,
At last I am your son as same as I am Dad’s.
PETER GARGANO AND MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND **** OPERATION THE WATCHERS CAMERAS WATCHIBG TOTS FROM THREE TI 10 AFTER THAT THE OPERATION EMERGED MANY MISSING KIDS ALL IVER THE WORLD BECAUSE THE CHILD **** WAS HIDDEN UNDER THE KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS TREADURY OF SAN CARLOS BEACH HE ALSO RAN YHE STRIP CLUB IN TAMPA HOUSING ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT JAMAICAN TALIBAN STRIPPERS IDENTITY THIEVES I REPORTED THIS TO THE FBI 2003 PETER GARGANO AND MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND BEGAN THREATENING MY LIFE TORTURE BLOWING MY BRAINS OUT LITERALLY THESE ELITE CHILD KILLERS DISPOSE OF THE VUCTIMS FRAMING THE PARENTS THERE ARE A FEW THAT PERER GARGANO PAID WITH LIQUIR LICENSES OF SCHOLASHIPS FOR THIS PREY UNDER THE FLORIDA LOTTERY I EXPOSED PETERS OPERATION AFTER FINDIND OUT MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND WAS APART OF THE **** MANY MANY KIDS MISSING I AM SO BLESSED MY DAUGHTER WAS RETURNED HOME MY LIFE WAS THREATENED SADLY THE TREASURE OF KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS PETER GARGANO HIS LONG LIST OF STRIPPERS JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY ALICIA HILTON TALISA SHAW KIWANI BUGS DANITA DELMONT THE MANY MISSING KIDS OUT THERE BECAUSE THIS POWERFUL ORGANIZED HORROR FUNDS THE ABUDUCTIONS MY PRAYERS ARE WITH THESE VICTIMS PETER BLEW UP MY SKULL EMBEZZLED THE TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY FAKED HIS DEATH WITH T KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS IN ORDER TO KILL ME AND IMPERSONATE MY IDENTITY WITH HIS JAMAICAN ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES ATTEMPTING TO IMPERSONATE MY WOUNDED WAR HERO HIDING UNDER VETERANS IDENTITIES GOD BLESS AMERICA GOD BLESS JOHN WALSH FOR ALL HE DO TO BRING MISSING KIDS BACK HOME SEARCHING ENDLESSLY NEVER KNOWING PERSONS OF POWER ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR COVERING ABUSED KIDS TOSSED LIKE TRASH PETER PRAYS ON KIDS ALREADY BEING ABUSED THEY BECOME WORTHLESS PREY HE THEN SEND OUT HIS HIRED HANDS TO DIG THE HOLES FROM FLORIDA TO MINNESOTA MAINE GOD ONLY KNOWS I WILL NEVER EVER FEAR THIS TWISTED HORROR
GOD BLESS AMERICA
A poor, wayfaring man of grief, has shared his truth with me,
For he has walked the winding road of life's great mystery,
Behold, the man, the truth at last, is ready to be shared,
His message is for one and all, his banquet is prepared.
The happiness, that people seek, is not a faster pace,
Our emptiness, may reach a peak, without a plaster face,
The truth is not a new belief, or some mythology,
A poor, wayfaring man of grief, is very real to me.
Yet happiness, is common, in a craven sort of clash,
The natural man, rejects the plan, but not the petty cash,
And those who build a fortune, are the breed of our success,
For those who need a portion, have to bleed for happiness.
For happiness is how we care, a sacrifice for good,
A sumptuous feast that we prepare, by living as we should,
A by-product of our success, in what we say and do,
A blessing in the way we bless, our friends and neighbors too.
But by-products are not the aim, the purpose that we share,
Fulfillment is the greater good, the reason that we care,
If money is the welcome mat, a portal people seek,
Then happiness is growing fat, a flavor of the week.
So here we are, and here it is, the purpose of a man,
And happiness, though good for us, is still an also-ran,
The purpose of humanity, collectively, I know,
Is feed the soul with kindness and with love to make it grow.
For this reward of loving, is the quality of joy,
And joy is the fulfillment of the gifts that we employ,
Happiness is fleeting but our joy goes on and on,
Like morning dew is fading, but the green is on the lawn.
A poor, wayfaring man of grief, has taught these truths to me,
The sun and moon and stars above are less than even He,
I know him for the one he is by how he makes me feel,
For even when I slip and fall I know his love is real.
Look for the starry night,
you couldn’t find any evidence
of existing God.
All Universe
quite measureless
in micro and macro level
born, diverged and going to its end
according with the laws of nature
and own unreachable constitution
with precisely tuned physical constants.
I am so hoped for Christ
and put all my soul into astonishing religious,
that created, prepared and covered all matters so amazingly,
but that also lead us away from truth and reality.
I have run from Communism ideology and atheism,
despite of great achievement of godless empire,
and come to Islam after breaking USSR
as for tradition belief of my forefathers.
And soon run from Islam,
opening through Internet and English
the marvel and great depth of Christianity.
But now I ran from Crist and God
and come back again to atheism,
to the brilliant starry night
respecting and understanding deep all religious
but believe just for stories
supported by science and truth
as this astonishing universe,
tuned with natural laws
and nothing more else.
Maybe have existed supernatural power
who created some or other part of this universe,
but he, seems, also ran away
left us with that starry night
and precisely tuned world.
What also need for us?
Thanks very much for that
if highest intellect really exists
or existed
sometime long ago
but now ran away
or completely forgot us
and no want hear about us more
for our sake, advantage and fast rise.
What about tell us
this excellent starry night
of Richard Dawkins?
Love and respect each other’s
and do the same for science
as for poetry of reality
and fast to live, love and understand
your environment
and do not keep faith
without reason and evidence,
escape from various kind
of fanatism, lies and rootles belief.
Unquotable quotes - I
A friend in need is the goon who stokes your greed.
A journey of a thousand miles ends with the last broken step.
Don’t kill the brother-in-law until the sister is dead.
Butter your toast on either side to lick hands.
Hang not the hangman with noose: you’ll lose booze.
Half a loaf is better than no love.
Even a blind cat can smell a rat that bells the cat.
Take care of the pounds and the wife will pound you.
Take the load off your own fat.
Shoot to kill only if you can’t stand still.
Slow and steady are two legs in a sack race.
A marksman is the marked man’s also-ran.
A blacklisted writer is on every publisher’s reading list.
A dime a dozen is no denizen.
He who cries thief knows no mischief.
Turn coat and capsize boat.
A snake in the grass may miss Mass but is full of grace.
Early to bed catches the worm.
All that glitters cannot be sold.
Immolate yourself to moult your soul.
Even if you’re forced to burn your boats, fly by air.
Where there’s a will, there’s no giving way.
Run also with the hares and the hounds will eat you.
A little knowledge makes the master grin.
Birds of a feather share the same tailor.
Don’t judge a woman with a book by its covers.
If you kick a can down the street, empty it first.
What burns up and out is the gas in the gut.
A stitch in time saves kith but not kin.
Forewarned is foredamned.
Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, just lay them.
If the hens begin to crow, the cocks will lie low.
If you pour oil on troubled waters, Mid-East will dry up.
Still waters run in sleep.
Parallel lives never meet or greet.
© T. Wignesan - Pris, 2016
Another Gold
Far from profit’s crass allure,
At a place somewhat obscure,
A poet sweeps his shepherd’s lyre;
He sings of gold, of heaven’s fire.
No. not of gold that Midas stores
Behind fast-bolted treasury doors
But of gold, that, eve and dawn,
Touches sheaves of ripened corn.
More emeralds than all wealth can gain
Has to these eyes the verdant plain.
Without the mind all precious stones
Have lesser worth than dead men’s bones.
The original prompt for the last poem was one I wrote on being requested to resign from a computer company.
Far from profit’s crass allure
At a place somewhat obscure,
Gordon preaches now Cobol.
Fortran and, I believe, Algol,
Unto flocks of Gaelic birds,
Black-faced sheep and long-haired herds.
In Acton’s fleshpots, in his den,
The spotlight first is beamed on Ken.
Beware the luscious woman’s wiles
Or you’ll forget your disks and files.
It would clearly be a sin
To make no mention of dear Lin.
May married bliss attend thy way
And commensurate be thy pay.
Sandra’s performance sets the pace
Robin’s too a similar case.
His hunting prowess earns him fame
In matters that concern big game.
Flower power propels this happy throng
Which means that little can go wrong
As long as Rose your leader be.
May rays of fortune shine on thee
On yon high Olympic mountain
Where Gord and Mary have been scouting.
There beneath the royal wall
Our Ted flogs bangles on his stall.
My ditty now has reached its span
Remember me, the also-ran.
When I walked in the room,
I saw no sign of you,
your shoes or your jacket new,
even your car was gone.
Called up all of our friends,
knew nothing on their ends,
no message did you send,
or note that said ‘so long.’
Called police panicking,
three days ’till your missing,
they got you on the first ring,
but would not speak to me.
Now so confused I am,
we had a life, a plan,
I loved being your man,
but without a word you flee?
Alta….
you said that everything was well,
Alta…
what bothered you, you would not tell.
Why up and leave me,
barely believing
that it could all end this way.
Alta…
I thought that you would wear my ring,
Alta…
we’d buy the house and everything,
gone without notice,
how could you do this?
Nothing that you had to say?
When I ask why you’re gone…
for nothing did you want,
no quarrels, nothing that wrong,
and so much time I gave.
Was this hypergamy?
Are you monkey-branching?
To some man more than me,
is it the cash that you crave?
I’m not that bad for looks,
never asked you to cook,
so what left our world shook?
And why not even explain?
I’m not a perfect man,
but I’m no also-ran,
and I’ll never understand
how you left without shame.
Alta…
it seems I though too much of you,
Alta…
our time together wasted too,
All on the wrong track,
real feeling you lack,
I’ve come to regret the days.
Alta…
I put you on a pedestal,
Alta…
was wrong to be that gullible,
and I say right now
I will not allow
myself to play such a game.
The Doldrums of 2020
Hullabaloo, nothing to do.
the doldrums latch on to you.
Rickity dink, slippery slimy slue.
We scheme, we plot, we fold and cry a lot ! ! ! !
We fan, we plan, exhausted, but not an also ran,
We heap accolades upon tarnished shards of hope.
Yet find our very best advice lies in
a good hot bath and plenty of soap.
And when night is nearly nigh,
He, gathers you and I Into a Paradise
where none will ever die. To sing the songs
of Isaac and of Abraham ! ! ! !
To polish halo’s all day long, because we can.
Trying to achieve the heart of a simple man
Failing to fall short the simple gist of it to
reward ourselves with a marmalade biscuit.
And in the end we sit and pray.....And though
no one can directly look Him in the eye,
We adulate the King, the He, the most high !
Thank you again God to give me just one
more rhyme before I die. I’m not worthy I know
But at least I take the time to honestly try.
Charles Grady Henderson, On the rampage again after a short Sabbatical cutting my crop of Florida betony, and repotting my Japanese Maples for the first time in over ten years. Along with a whole slew of Iris and day lilies which have multiplicity syndrome. I have run out of dirt, so now have a fair sized hole in my back yard to fill in, along with that horrible wet spot oozing up from the septic tank drain. Man my life has got to get better. And it will “The Lord willing and the creek don’t rise” ! !