Long Annual Poems
Long Annual Poems. Below are the most popular long Annual by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Annual poems by poem length and keyword.
Down the fervent aeons Buddha’s sagesse,
casts its august shroud on benign witness,
shades, shadows, subtle symbol shift,
encompass cosmopolitan and temporal,
incongruous to flaccid predilection feigned,
astute statue of nuance and nicety,
crosses annual acme’s snowflake whirl,
Christmas that propitious seasonable fount,
amid the merriment and jubilation stirred,
can wry dispensation be somehow drowned,
sculpted mould epitomising solemn pearls,
to counter spartan sparkle an uneven match,
for the blissful bubble oft recurrent judder,
though evaluation oscillates on this thorny subject,
palatial gift as lavish token bountiful toward,
unswerving fellow pilgrims of our jagged journey,
despite the avalanche of advertiser’s counterfoil,
triumphant warm rush Burra Din advantage,
can engender migrating episodes deft mutual,
as the Buddha manifests a dovetail harmony,
strained coexistence with December frolic
in the most enshrined but unforeseen locations,
where Buddha influencer might drop wry hints,
juxtapose amidst jollied Christmas victuals,
where bear necessity bordering on martyrdom,
is gratuitously extolled in quaint quintessential quote,
that arrant caustic jibe at the apparently trivial,
the importance of recurring benchmark scope,
as that valid institution built on solid query,
might be seen as an awkward encroachment,
to the much pilloried fanfare of modern life,
changes are afoot when blind pursuit exhales,
has in zoom of instance been Buddha fostered,
if one probes forensically profound into the furore,
where future life burden is an exponential angst,
so abundant amid a sinister spiralling pessimism,
the seeds have been planted in a sprouting urn,
for above the shoulder carry torch consciousness,
a synchronous embryonic Buddha ethos at the core,
one is cognisant of this in zealous online sweeps,
where a budding spirit Christmas mosaic adjunct,
is a Buddhaesque nod on foot of wellness kinship
to concatenate shrouded inkling o’er enduring quest,
on the universal isthmus of humanity plagued by panacea,
one suspends as Buddha meets Christmas on a jubilant,
December day exuding generous exchange across the globe,
it’s a down the centuries dilemma entangled in time,
Most of the nude and swaying countryside
still speaks with sad,shreking and mournful sounds;
its stripped trees are bulky and tepid
as moisture continuously ascends from the languid ground!
Only a pensive,middle-aged man walks
curiously along the wide paths
flanked by jasmine,
and a casual pine:
where the marvis pauses,unmindful
of the gray squirrel!
Yet,incredibly,some shy violets shows
its frosty petals from among the dry,russet leaves;
how unhappy it is from that useless shelter...
regardless of the coming sorrow of its annual fate!
The wandering white-haired man
is very impressed by the tranquil landscape,
and occasionally stops a second,delighted,
to catch a glimpse of the glaring sun!
Some faint voice quivers into the intensifying darkness;
it's heard often...never to dominate the stillness!
Another clearer voice follows after that first one,vibrating:
it's the evening song of thanksgiving!
Welcome to My Shopping Plaza
Reserved purely for the best,
Entry initially is only by passing
Our Received Pronunciation Test,
Closely followed by meeting
Our test of personal wealth.
(No well spoken impoverished
Slipping in by stealth.)
When it comes to shortlisting
I’m afraid you’ll be needing
More than adequate proof of
Good blood and good breeding.
Be assured everything we sell
Is the epitome of nice
You’ve evaded our selection if
You have to ask the price.
We’ve taken every precaution to
Ensure the elite can enjoy
An afternoon of leisured shopping
Away from the common Hoi Poloi.
We d no bias again the lower orders
Most of them behave quite well
And, to be strictly honest only
A minority of them actually smell.
The working class in fact do have
Their place and their use
Even if they do at times require
Protection from our abuse.
Oh, God’s still in his Heaven and
His work is more than complete
When affording privilege and style
To that deserving wealthy elite.
There’s nothing wrong with equality
In fact I’ll give it a toast
So long as they accept that some
Are more equal than the most.
Once your membership is accepted
All our facilities are free
On receipt of course, of our modest
Annual renewal Fee.
We do ask members to accept
That if they bring a guest
They too are expected to pass
Our modest membership test
Welcome to my Shopping Plaza
Safe in the knowledge that’s it’s true
It’s designed for the convenience of
That deserving minority just like you.
Yes, it was the annual old people reunion; used to be family, but now only the greats and the great-greats attend. The young members of the family who are guilt-ed or coerced into showing up, are not visiting with the greats, choosing instead to focus their sole attention on Ipads, Ipods, and tablets.
The greats have some fine stories, they are missing.
The greats would love for one of the younger ones to come over, and pay some attention to them.
It does not happen. Even the ones without technology they brought themselves, have children to run after. The greats could never catch up with the twos and threes as they are running toward the street.
I am an in-betweener. I see what is happening, but cannot stop it. We are losing our humanity, and it’s so sad. I am wishing that the Internet will crash, so the greats can see how wonderful the young ones are, and the young ones can see how witty and gay the oldest ones are.
We are all there, and yet, none are there.
Sad.
A red-throated hummingbird, betrayed,
begins the annual rite of packing up his nest,
in response to the mercurial spinning of winds,
and the twisted temperaments of weather.
Distant friends once conspired together, chasing sunbeams,
beak-seeking nectar beckoned from blossoms' tease,
thoughtful temptations from the breeze who taught him to fly.
Without warning, save the predictions of history,
the wind turned her shoulder, hiding the cold,
smell of snow on her breath belying denials of inclemency.
Taking only what he needs, tucking it in next to his breast;
an odd stick, a tuft of newborn lanugo for the sake of nostalgia,
unhatched plans of a portico he had intended to build.
Red bird perched on bare branch, in morning bids farewell,
takes flight on desolate breath, his load less heavy now,
having left his heart with the unsteady humor of sylphs.
Hence no surprise... yes
recherché rhetorical flourish(es) impress,
yet mine deliberate vocabulist predilection,
I haint gonna stress
aforementioned quirk
also includes zero apr
(annual percentage rate),
may be subject with excess
sieve jejune ennui pullulating Kudzu like
indecipherable haphazard gobbledygook mess
abhorrent brashness claptrap discouraging
further harrowing progress
into thicket of verbiage, perhaps...
unwittingly encountering Loch Ness
cheesy Munster gussied up as...
transgender logophile, alias Hermann Hesse,
which obvious immediate
long winded atavistic feature will
allow, enable, and provide
dead giveaway clue to guess,
whether yours truly be
mouse or man (chess
champion) meandering along
stream of consciousness,
whereby succumbing to wordiness helpless
(fear not coronavirus,
nor other mortal affliction)
even if exuding fifty shades of gray pus,
the only bonafide surefire
holistic, iambic, therapeutic... recourse
I reluctantly, lamely, and feebly confess
to ameliorate slogging thru
metaphorical marsh cress,
(a veritable poetic nightmare)
volunteer self as unsuspecting to acquiesce
(lest no lifetime allowance
courtesy United States mint printing press),
whereat Impractical Jokers profess
gut wrenching, humiliating, insulting...
pranks, albeit dudes harmless
(think) only psychological state at risk else
suffer interminable, objectionable, unutterable...
mother (ƒµ©****) eternal duress
unbeknownst to thee multisyllabic
stranger vowel things in consonant
essentially Mattspeak trumpeting
as sesquipedalianism (the lesser of twee vols)
temporarily rendering, manifesting
sudden impulse to emulate... me,
and damaging basic cognitive process.
Should it happen that someday they're seeking struggling bards,
To compose verse for Hallmark's Christmas cards,
I think that I should like summarily to submit,
The following mots for consideration, TO WIT:
(1) 'Tis so nice to receive a colorful array of Christmas cards,
From kith and kin sending their warmest Noel regards.
I'm sparing you the twaddle of an annual Christmas letter,
Since I think this simple card expresses my greetings better!
(2) I pray Yule have a joyous Christmas with your relations,
And that Santa will more than meet your expectations.
'Tis the Season for Joy, never feeling sad or blue.
That'll come, dear friend, when the credit card bills are due!
(3) As you dream and reminisce by the glowing fire,
May all come to pass for which you aspire.
Tho' it has been said many ways, I can't be more sincere,
Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
(4) May your heart be filled with hope and mirth,
As you celebrate the dear Savior's birth.
May your home be filled with naught but love and joy,
As you celebrate the birthday of that special little boy!
Robert L. Hlnshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Should perchance someday Hallmark is seeking struggling bards,
To concoct witty verse for their annual Thanksgiving cards,
I think that I should like to summarily submit,
The following mots for their consideration, TO WIT:
(1) Savor the oyster dressing, giblet gravy and thigh,
The sweet pertaters, green bean casserole and punkin pie.
Hope you have a goodly supply of sodium bicarbonate,
To counter the wrenching effects of all that grub you ate!
(2) To Grandma's house, hordes of kith and kin will repair,
For delicious vittles, (if Grandpa ever ends his interminable prayer!)
May naught but love and fellowship dwell amongst you there,
As His bountiful harvest each of you cheerfully share!
(3) The Thanksgiving meal is over, the guys watch teams battle,
While women sit about the table engaged in idle prattle!
Mom's thoughts are elsewhere on how to deal with leftover turkey.
She's a genius at creating stews and soups, even turkey jerky!
(4) A Happy Thanksgiving to one and all!
Relish this time together and have a ball!
And may all with thankful hearts ever lift,
Thanks to Him, the Giver of all good gifts!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
To begin, time and money we give
For our quest, our poetry pilgrimage
Here, our band of bards congregate
Here, we speak the language of language
The secret handshake of simile and sonnet
Here, we meet in metaphor and meter
Here is heard tight rhyme and free verse
Our serendipitous saga, our harmony of haiku
Here, we revere the value of vowels
The roots of etymology forming
Our collective family tree
We barter in the coin of wit
Or trade in pages of penmanship
We recite in rich rolling elocution
Or in bashful library murmurs
We debate the greats - Dickinson! Poe! Yeats!
We ponder, we savor; we may place a wager...
In the end, we've re-met our old friends
And we'll do it again, at the next PoetrySoup convention.
3/9/19
For The First Annual PoetrySoup Convention contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Seperating his experiences from
what he was taught he sought
words to decribe if his boredom
and laziness came from his ways
of finding shortcuts t9 get his workdone
Comparisions and compatiblity
Gave great conversation but it didn't
anwser the questions.
Explainations of similaritiess
the importance of each
and the value placed upon them all.
Wanting and needing neither
Finishes a task, and it only destracts
From why you are doing it.
Favorable and desirible results guided by
the need to be proud and effective.
I can't use the words of business to decribe love
And in love no words decribes business
Less complicated and less neglective
Might vacations relax the tired
and might interest and amibition inspire your
success
And might you have people in place to counsel
Your over eagerness
to bring a sence of togetherness to this place
From The Rattlesnake Gutt Creek Annual Orcheastra's
Annual Suppernight Gala.
Written by
"France" Chepp Caulfinn
Bass, soprano, and flutest for
The Natrual laser guided porablesawmill band