Long Angles Poems
Long Angles Poems. Below are the most popular long Angles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Angles poems by poem length and keyword.
What's up with all y'all?
I'm awkward and tall
Catch me before I fall
I'm dancing in the Hall of Fame
Shame just came...just came...
Tame me up in God's name
Liar and cheaters aren't tolerated here
Lick me with your fire and hold me dear
Have no fear; darling, have no fear
Steer the boat away from trouble...
Danger will double...double...
Don't burst my bubble...bubble...
Bubbled up by bubbles...
I'm not dumb - I'm a young teenager right in front of your face
I'm super deeduper smart and fantabulous in vast grace
The future has got me many places...I remember the traces
In a coma
Add on my stress like a comma...
I pause, then I go
You know, I'm living just foshow
Leave me alone, negativity
I invite you in, positivity
I need You to make me optimistic
I don't wanna be so pessimistic
Sarcasm was rolling off my tongue
You're my other lung
Lunge into me, breath of the Holy Spirit
I have a boyfriend, so quit your ****
You can eat me up bit by bit...
Because I don't throw those 5-year-old fits
Too many times have I covered up for you
You belong with me, darling, it's true
I'm a wild child for a reason
I am as magical as the winter season
Like, seriously, brah, you good in the hood
Because shame on me - I'm misunderstood
My confident stride
Is due to my bipolar ride
My confidence shines
Paying your fines
Punks and dorks are filling this room with doom
Let me bloom like a butterfly flower...consume
Happiness...resume on with your joy and peace - get a room!
I am growing like a mushroom...
I hear the explosion of excellence - boom!
The writer, the fighter...
Has came back 7-fold
I'm a sensitive guy, so don't go higher...
We are on the same level, my darling devil
I am oh so bold...
Maybe a little too much for my own good
I'm in the arms of a billion angels
In all angles...stripped down by devils
I blush, for you are the one for me
I crushed on you, my blessed baby
Let's live on and die a mighty winner
For, you are a winner, reader
Confidence shines...let's follow the Leader
Your mind can take you places
let your eyes be the judge of what you see.
Is a bin not a bin?
Is a rose not a rose?
I could call on deception, flattery, duplicity,
misdirection.
I have tamed my rage,
but you’re quick to see my movements,
quick to trace my engagements.
Fighting on the back front doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten.
Your lows, your deeds
they’ll draw me down from angles on high,
like coins dropped from a skyscraper,
scattering, unpredictable, inevitable.
Think what you will, think what you may.
Believe you’ve won, believe you’ve slipped away.
But I will come.
I will collect.
I will cash that cheque.
When I join myself in prayer
all the survivors; all those still able to bear witness
regarding my twisted way through the moments
and decades come together in the nothing flat
all eager to tell their tales once more.
The dead speak little;
ushering blindfolded angles
lead them into my presence
yet they are reluctant to testify or blame.
The survivors line up ready to spill all the beans
or elaborate upon some minor escape from
a near miss, or a cliff edge pull-back
when I gabbed myself away, not from the fall
but from the hard ground.
I listen nodding like a priest in a confessional box
absolving some, scorning others, dismissing many.
After this séance with myself,
I take an Ambien and sleep
dreaming of a life that once had meaning.
**V**
\ /
\ /
v
He is her knight in shining armor in all angles and sight…
He has all the courage to go and ask her hand,
From the woman’s father who’s well-known as a noble man;
Words of humiliations, he swallows them all,
He is a commoner but his love for her is so true and pure.
Despite their opprobrium, he keeps fighting for his great love,
In a humble way, he begs for her parents’ blessings
knocking their wooden heart;
Bowing before her father… he implores…
Making faithful promises to keep forevermore.
His heart of gold and few hectares of land
enough dowries he can give,
all for his dearest one.
For she’s their only daughter,
their lovely princess
very precious,
and so pretty-she really is.
The suitor’s words are passionate, fervent and firm,
The man is so adamant, he still refuses him,
His words continue…spewing cogent powers…
Finally melts her mother’s heart---
His struggles to win her and be both blessed will soon be over,
He’ll surely conquer for his love is so great proven to last forever.
Sept. 17, 2013 9.25 pm
©2013by Leonora Galinta
First Place
Contest: Epic Only
Judged: 9/24/2013
Sponsor: Greatest Poet PD
Ninth Place
Contest: In Honor of Painter Charles Haigh Wood & His Painting
Judged: 10/1/2013
Sponsor: Poet Isaiah Zerbst
Shell like and thin,without and within,whose surface naturally co-incide.Straight rays from the eyes,horizontal,perpendicular,grace with beauty personified.
Simplicity,intricacy uniformity .Quanitified.inlets of beautyevident,entertaining the eye glutted with variety.A plainspace,pleasant to see,scroll and volute in symmetry,surprised by mimicry to avoid regularity.Simple,distinct enjoying with ease, in cone form or pyramid will ever please.Allegory,riddlewhere angles amuse,magnitude ill-shaped,adds greatness to grace,a broken line to enhance each face.Lines entwine,twistingthen un-wind.Serpentine,well composed adds variety to art,waving,dotted or straight,elegantgrace in our eye will impart.
a traveller in wanderlust can’t blink her eyes
on the splendor of the place where she passes by
with a dreamy feeling she alights from her ride
gazes in gape to the marvelous beauty of a paradise
ambling along the green fields with bright flowers and yew trees
on the side is a gray mountain standing tall in glory
various birds hover above stretching their wings
some animals graze on nearby spring
colorful insects fly together in shapes of ring
taking a halt in every minute to capture all angles with her lens
in billowing skirt, once in a while sways and turns around with grace
heading gladly at the other end where a jungle awaits
unaware of other animals , some are wild and some are tame
while wondering and looking over yonder
she holds her lens, so eager to see what’s in there
a mother and baby monkey beckon with a clever grin
heart being captivated by nature’s enchantment
feeling agog, she gets in
aghast! two lions stare just in front of her
one looks so kind and the other one is cruel
despite her fear, she tries to capture them with her lens
before running away, two caretakers dressed up like Tarzan and Jane
show up saying, “Thank You Come Again.”
Nov. 25,2012
by: Leonora Galinta
First Place
Contest Theme: Viewing Life Through Lens
Contest Judged: 12/3/2012
Sponsor: Poet SandyIvy D
It’s raining….
Clouds is all WE see.
Darkness looming at every corner.
It’s raining….
Hail is coming down.
From all angles.
Darkness looming at every corner.
It’s raining….
Thunder echoes our ears deaf.
Clinging at the rear.
Of our broken bridges, we fear.
Darkness looming at every corner.
It’s raining….
Mist cowers our eyes.
Wiping, we feel them burn.
Burn in anticipation as we stretch to see.
To see and save our own lives.
But darkness looms at every corner.
It’s raining….
Our feet move fibly.
With only blind courage we walk.
They hurt in response.
We have to move we know.
The bridge is only what we have to cross
But again darkness looms at every corner.
It’s raining….
It’s raining our hearts heavy.
It’s hailing our efforts vainly.
Thunder overpowers our voices quietly.
Mist forces our eyes not to see clearly.
Our feet hurt to make us walk steadily.
Darkness looms to discourage us slowly
It’s raining….
We fight on in the rain.
We shout “justice” despite the thunder.
We brave on against the hail.
We struggle on to see above the mist.
We move, we run with our feet.
For justice is what we want.
Justice is what we crave.
Even when the darkness looms over.
We will fight on for progress.
after watching a clip from Michael Brown's mother, Eric Garner's widow. I was touched on the amount of killing going on in America, we hear it in the news, social media, everywhere. Whether its just or unjust circumstances our prayers are always alive.
© Herzel Poshiwa
Two successive dates
I failed to hit the mark
I'm sorry for the mistakes
And the crestfallen shark
On the first, I didn't use
Much needed commas and slashes
Flowers I failed to produce
Absent were the flamenco flashes
I now do understand
Beauty of punctuation
Undulations of the land
Whispering illustration
And the slanting slashes
Those acute angles
Poetry to eyelashes
Loosening many tangles
Superb instrument dash
A pause to look at your work
Warns you before being rash
Watches where lightning lurks
Stanzas bring out sparks
Red violet and pink
A ray between two darks
A fillip to potent ink
Thanks for your expertise
It has made me mature
No mistakes in the next exercise
I'm more than sure
Especially the short stanzas
I was unmindful so long
Now these will be in bonanza
Lilac lyrics of a song
Do fix the next date
Mistake-free poems I'll give you
You will feel a tidal elate
Like the autumn silver dew
_________________________________
August 31, 2019
Overcoming Mistakes Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Dearest, former self
I hope this finds you well
I’ve learned a thing or two
From this weathered, carousel
It will not cease to spin
And knows of no reverse
You can count on ups and downs
In this ironic universe
Be forewarned, the paint will chip
The music will grow tired
Read my words aloud
Apply knowledge you acquire
Seating arrangements are subject to change
The ride shuffles when it sees fit
Alternating angles, perspective and friends
We almost never want, but need it
It will make a few stops along the way
Some exit and new will board
There’s time to mourn and it ends too soon
My apologies for being straight forward
I thought maybe if I could caution
I could suppress the initial shock
I can arm you with wisdom and truth
But no one can stop the clock
Life is entanglement plus time,
A Gordian knot of opportunities,
Each ravel a riddle to solve
or a battle to be won.
We grab and pull at the gnarls,
Greedy fingers seeking solutions alone.
Though the more we worry them,
the tighter the fibers cling together,
defeating our efforts with every turn.
The working ends unhitched and hidden,
Knots impossible to untie without another;
Desperate, we seek the means to unset
the tightened rounds of coil.
We need only look up from our lonely struggle,
Unhand the ties and trice up munitions,
In favor of a more effective weapon,
for a prize worth more than any puzzle.
Love is the sword that cuts,
The foil to Gordius' grateful gift,
The force that frees us from the knots
that bind us alone in despair.
Love is the lens that exposes the path,
To unraveling the tangled mess,
To bearing witness to the holism of loops
and eyes along the same length of rope.
Love alone is the key that unlocks
The secrets of the tightly-wound tangle,
Revealing the pattern of the overlaps
and the beauty of the intermingled angles.
With love as our scope, we can maneuver
Through the maze of twists and turns,
Unleashing joys and embracing the weight
of the lessons we learn as the bind slowly burns.
Through patience and kindness, we can loosen
The strands that have wound us so tightly,
Embracing the challenge and refusing to choose
the path of ire or slacking down without a fight.
So let us unravel the knot with hearts ablaze
And together minds set on finding the way,
With love as our sword and our site and our hope,
we can unravel the rigging and seize hold of the day.