Long Alternatively Poems
Long Alternatively Poems. Below are the most popular long Alternatively by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alternatively poems by poem length and keyword.
Genuine Fecklessness Exemplifies Despondent Creature Because...
Lackluster life lived
as each subsequent day,
a carbon copy
of the one before,
though far from
being clinically depressed, this boar
ring guilt ridden Capitalist decries
mass consumerist paradigm
satiating the whore
rub bull Lady Liberty, where more
disinclination arises, per
crossing upcoming birthdays corridor
January 13th finds
increased repugnance being part
of materialistic culture club
as hellacious tore
char, implied societal behavior
expects blind submission
subjected to glore
re: us lee spouting
hallelujah nauseating your
every five senses to accept
point blank, Nee pay adore
ration, asper goyish gaiety bon jure
blared, foisted, and
lobbed upon every
man, woman, and child of society,
which imposition, this
outlier doth deplore
as an avowed antiestablishmentarian
to thee very core,
of my being, who
experiences continuous ab hoar
rent theoretical strings
of disappointments pour
ring down (like confetti)
from on high, viz directly
linkedin as nonconformist eyesore
from cradle to... when,
me cremated ashes get scattered,
though right now... still technically
alive, at least... I think so
(despite not yet),
being gratefully dead...
nearing three score
years, yet upon
my demise wherefore
welcoming relief against
(feeling like the oddball),
shares his glumness
weighing me down, where
every step an arduous chore
his compunction being open to explore
living off the grid, or
alternatively joining thee dacor
oven intentional community,
cuz he seems severely mismatched,
where vast material consumption,
especially accentuated with
holiday season heavily pitched
to spend every
last red cent, (and beg
borrow, max out on credit, or steal)
to splurge for
expectation to endure
the helter skelter frenetic
Black Friday and Cyber Monday
fire sales kindling
a bonanza galore!
In your opinion
If I was your opinion, I would change on a daily basis
And sit myself next to anybody with the latest look.
If I was your opinion I would count for nothing at all;
You’re so alternatively a part of the crowd that I think you suck!
In your humble opinion, you are everything and more,
But in my humble opinion you are worth nothing at all.
The thoughts you think are right;
They are the thoughts you have been told.
The thoughts you think, are not your own.
They tell you what choice to make, be a fake,
Be what they want you to be; it is you I hate.
They are the norm, the ones you must follow,
But it is you I detest because you are so hollow.
You want to be them, because they have popularity;
This is why you must be hated, by all of society.
Cast out from the in-crowd for wanting to be in;
You are pitiful, you are a waste of a life and you are sin.
You have no opinion of your own and you care about your phone,
So I feel nothing for you at all, because you are a no-one.
You want a nice car and a beautiful home,
But you live behind a curtain that covers your soul.
You cannot let them see the real you,
Because it is black inside that heart of yours, so go be used.
Leave me here to have opinions of my own…
By the way you don’t have a good phone.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
(alternatively titled eldest daughter despises us)
Eden (beloved eldest daughter) icy
flat tone of voice spoke volumes,
when she talked with the missus and me
courtesy cellular telecommunications key
December twenty seventh
two thousand nineteen
unwavering listless dull verbalization see
I subsequently told spouse, she
thy super smart self reliant progeny
fending for herself approximately
last half dozen years exhibits je
ne sais quois profound loathing
predicated growing up dirt poor free
quint lee lamenting deprivations re:
guarding legal tender adequate specie
i.e. money - at least compared to every
MainLine millionaire flush with dee -
suppose able income, and oft times
lovingly, pleasantly, unexpectedly...
receiving largasse gift horse courtesy
zayda (my father), who art not yet
in heaven sprung monetary help, ye
this second born and only son did
profusely think him (papa) lee
ving voice messages on his landline,
and tracfone, plus wrote heartfelt poem,
similar acknowledgement modus operandi,
when said offspring
became twenty three
years old - five days ago, nonetheless thee
admirable, dependable, honorable... née
holds Matthew Scott (namely he),
who helped beget
darling feels angry,
and doth plainly exhibits contempt
(you) dear reader guessed correctly
towards sorrowful dada,
where inescapable thralldom
doth invisibly chain
(think ghost of Marley)
apologetic sir, whose
precious kinder, I
will unwaveringly cherish
forever love and Revere
despite up Paul ling
destitution, grinding linkedin penury,
and red hot poker faced
anger, yes... dismay
prevails how unforgiving
once (Benny sent) baby,
inside joke, I attest neigh
scent "star student,"
now grown young woman,
no longer - figuratively
wrapped around yours
truly her finger
father who fell short, natively cree
hated abhorrent within re
cent mammary, bosom (hers)
harboring scathing unmasked vee
hum mint, blistering, rancorous,
seething, volcanic withering...,
no matter disgusting revulsion
toward aging mommy
and repentant daddy,
I LOVE YE EDEN + SHANA!
I first noticed a change in Climate,
When my shoes started to outlast their laces,
Which I thought unusual at the time,
As I had come to think of it as an unwritten law,
Probably one of Murphy's,
That shoelaces were never meant to outlast a pair of shoes,
And shoes were built with the shoeshine boy and the shoe mender in mind.
About the time I realized that those rules no longer applied,
I felt the chill in the air,
As a new broom and a new wind were swooping down on us.
But just in case there is time for the change of climate to be reversed,
I take the laces that are now still as good as new,
Out of the shoes, before I consign them to another growing mountain,
That no one is prepared to climb,
And save them in case I come across a pair of shoes,
That will outlast their laces,
And possibly become a link in the chain,
That we can use to pull the world and its climate,
Back on an even keel,
Especially if someone who appreciates shoes that last,
Sees merit in encouraging a mountain of near new laces,
By making deals with charities to create the mountain,
Instead of bringing more new ones onto the market,
And helping speed up a change in climate.
Or alternatively if that does not come about,
My saved shoelaces will make handy ties for the bags of shoes,
I will need to dispose of that are beyond repair.
Either way,
I feel better for having pointed out,
That if we make enough small $1 savings to the good,
We could give the world it's badly needed,
Trillion-dollar makeover,
So we can all make do with smaller waste bins.
Pledging poetic collaboration...
(alternatively titled: putting
iambic pentameter feet put in mouth)
(Spanning across internet)
analogous to accept marital vow
(after blind date contestants
meet courtesy bachelor/bachelorette),
though each of us never met
mutual (of Omaha) accord
consonant with me... you bet
your sweet bippy - Laugh-In debt
ode to comedians Dan Rowan
and Dick Martin, no secret
at feeling flattered, though please
dismiss ambition to covet
(at least just yet),
yours truly adopted as house pet
argh... that beastly consummation beset
with challenge unsure weaken duet,
not absolutely necessary to whet
our respective appetites and asset
with words, quite obvious
twas love at first twenty six let
hors d'oeuvres suffice
me not here to exploit nor profit
concerning joint capitalistic venture,
whereby each of us signatory
contributing authors to beget
consensual reasonable rhyme or not,
yours truly doth deduce tenet
heavily to embark impossible mission
analogous good luck bouquet
to whomever doth cachet
more to the point, a whim woke
to assuage concupiscence,
cuz I gotta get get
preposterous simply to craft kismet
likened to kid in candy store lit
with excitement at sweet nuggets
mouth watering treats to offset
eating healthy vegetarian omelet
bloated overstuffed oaf think piglet
blessedly to young for slaughterhouse
five according to Kurt Vonnegut,
a fate far worse than death and taxes
now living in lap of luxury...
ah..., that's the ticket,
or perchance donning crown as kinglet
within safe porcine haven hamlet
whereat smart creatures use Telnet and toilet,
rather than pollute fields and/or streams.
News
New Born appears!
Great Gift of God to parents
Good News is delivered to all well wishers
Time comes to nurture and rear up up the little angel
Little one enjoys the cheerful childhood,
And goes through proper education and manners
And takes training to struggle and to survive.
Perhaps the being attains the desired independent adulthood
Or, destiny mercilessly terminates journey of life early.
Otherwise, the being either reaches the peak of success
Or endures failure in dismay,
Alternatively, Destiny puts a permanent Full Stop in midway.
If Destiny allows to continue the venture,
Vigorous, arrogant, proud youth
Inevitably merges to considerate calm seniority
But all along the path of life,
The being gets the News of the departed souls of some dear ones.
At last the Being itself becomes an Obituary News
Anisha Dutta 08/17/15
Any Sad Poem Contest Sponsor Broken Wings
3rd place
Your favorite poem from August, 2015 by Julia Ward
Jesus Gods Link
Written: by Tom Wright
3/10/03
The words I pen, quite simply,
Are my thoughts disposed to ink.
Laying my heart agape on paper,
Inviting others to seek God's link.
I seek not possession, or ownership,
To thoughts that once dormant lay.
God, bades my elite in each travail,
In stride, thought, and feats of day.
Never regarding it developed talent,
But alternatively, God's, gift to me.
That in using my blundering efforts,
I've presented Jesus, for others to see.
So consider these not as abeyant words,
Ink, structured to form a printed page.
My objective was to show you Jesus,
And plant a seed to sprout with age.
A nascent hodgepodge
of gobbledygook from me,
or alternatively yours
nada soo true lee,
this incipient harm
less bumbling in das scribe
hubble wordy monster prithee
lee, nonchalantly, and lovingly
enjoys generating inscrutable mish
mash vocabulary,
which vapid unsolicited
largesse - from this dip see
dude dill ling, jabbering, dee
pull hoar rubble casket base,
and quacking rub bush pre
mere ring this harried
styled and swiftly tail
lord gibberish - dee
lib writ lee doth
write play full lee
to maximize obfuscation, dee
fie interpretation, and que
zook lee (quizzically)
silently ha...ha...ha
dis Matt chew wing,
chuckling, unremarkably
lamb baa sting king, she
push lee, dauntingly we
sill lee (weaselly) undermining
comprehension, whar ye
dear reader feel trapped
without a turn key
continually sliding into this
old rotten Goth theme be
have (behave) Ural
sink - as aye blithe lee
undoubtedly matter hoof
act corroborate with (be
leave me you) this
"FAKE" sniveling dee
mean nor (demeanor), the least
bit concerned if ye
unfairly find mine cumber
some harried style i.e.
spooner than later
lore or mess free
dissociation, viz parched
stream of consciousness me
thinks meandering into
an oxbow lake hee
ping (by Dickens) yar rye
ha (Uriah), where yar
tried patience probably
didst syrup pass smoldering rage
against this may pull leaf tree
cooly le (treacly)
slap dash helter
skelter brash poppycock
bereft, devoid, and fee
bully, sans ex tolling extra help
pings of gibberish glee
fully - totally tubularly
gloating how thee
moost experience
utter frustration re:
garding figuratively wading,
thru thicket of faux pre
tent shuss verbiage
omitting even so mooch
as a fore warning from
this one percent nee
and dare dearth hull
(Neanderthal) - as re:
veiled from genetic test
23andme, an
endeavor taken by me
eldest sister, - whose
first name iz a male lee,
Harris - hyphenated with Mug gee
Hen (McGeehan).
I linger at my laptop day and night.
Not making a fiction to shift a slight.
My ink was poised on the tips of my knuckles.
There isn't a veil of aims waffle puzzles.
Sonnet forming is an arduous endeavor task.
It should be tame as faces veiled with a mask.
But then, it may truly stay as excessive.
Alternatively, should rhyme it with pensive.
In point of fact, I'd say it's relatively precise.
Sonnet forming is a complex endeavor to entice.
It is prompted you to describe it with your eye.
But all I can rake stand a specific region of the sky.
A mouth heaped with fiction and sophistry.
Vacant storage space of bounty.
A storeroom that has been overcome by mice.
"Goodness!"My mind is deploring in an obscene vice.
Crafting a poem presents a daunting challenge.
Dazed, I flung my pen down expunge
It was simply too much for me to handle.
I sincerely obtained sight of the paper bundle.
I had seen my sadness jotted in dim crafting.
Moreover, I transformed it into a concert showing.
Artists are bound to name it a stanza or verse.
I took a gander at the page with unity and curse.
I'm grasping my worksheets in my hand.
Despite the way that my verse was bland.
I included an explanation that my poems were bad.
Unlike squashed stone, Lyric composing is hard.
Written: November 20, 2021
There is no plural. There is only singular.
Space-time creates the illusion of individuality,
a veil fracturing the singular into the appearance of many.
What we perceive as separateness dissolves in truth.
Every thought, action, and being is not distinct,
but a single existence experiencing itself in infinite ways.
As sunlight passes through a prism, splitting into a spectrum of colors,
so too does love refract through the veil of individuality,
revealing the boundless unity beneath its luminous arc.
Love as a Mathematical Expression:
L = 8(U)
Where:
L: Love, the essence of connection.
8: Infinity, the boundless force that transcends all constraints.
U: Unity, the singular truth of existence.
Alternatively, love could be expressed as:
1 = 1
This equation reflects the ultimate unity of all things,
where the illusion of division gives way
to the oneness of being.
Love in the Heart of Life:
It is the pulse in the rhythm of waves upon the shore,
the whisper of wind through ancient trees,
the silent recognition of souls meeting in a glance.
It is the infinite force that weaves through the fabric of all,
binding hearts, stars, and atoms alike,
calling us back to the singular whole.
Love is the infinite force that binds all.
It dissolves illusions, revealing the singular whole.
:: 01.24.2025 ::