Long Arrears Poems

Long Arrears Poems. Below are the most popular long Arrears by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arrears poems by poem length and keyword.


Awakening Contemplatiions

Awakening Contemplations

Perception of reality changing in a second 
The Invention of congeniality as I wait for you to beckon 
The Australian informality of “yeah whatever you reckon!”
The North Korean missile strikes looking to constantly threaten 

World stability and Universal peace
The unpaid rent, a broken lease
A reason to vent, an estranged niece
A persistent strain of thought that simply will not cease

Chemical warfare and secluded drone strikes 
A Ukrainian counteroffensive in the middle of the night 
The oppressed peoples will to stand up and fight 
Searching for a future that has the potential to be bright 

Ghengis Khan, Nostradamus and Shakespeare
No intention to harm , only to disqualify your fears
An isolated old woman breaking down in tears 
A forlorn ex-revolutionary marvelling at the passing of the years

The recollection of youth passing by far too quickly
A monsterous uncouth agent described only as prickly 
The bubonic plague recreated and the people are sickly 
The presidential race and how it’s run politically 

Beauty and science and history and mathematics 
All by the bass note as it sounds that fantastic 
We revere what William Wordsworth wrote and produce more ecstatics 
As the oceans and rivers fill up with plastic 

Daring souls on the edge of inventions and ideas
The whole on the ledge, financial systems in arrears 
Climate change deniers red faced as the carbon emission clears
Interpol debased as the criminal network sneers

Apathetic resignation as life passes you by 
Magnetic mutations as people begin to ask why ?
Frenetic contemplations as salt water flows from my eyes
Epic considerations as the elderly prepare to die 

An evening with Shostakovitz and classical relief
An interim meeting with a dogmatic thief 
A tight fit unit bringing Humanitarian Relief
A man that doesn’t know  his own philosophical and spiritual beliefs

There’s a a path that is right and a path that is taken 
As you arrive at your future self quite visibly shaken 
There’s nothing left but what remains to be mistaken 
And the epiphanies experienced as your soul begins to awaken 

Copywrite 2023 Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme


Fine

FINE
                      Fu#!ed up Insecure Neurotic and Emotional

Oh! Sweet boys of mine, Mom wants you to be way more than fine
When I was a single mom and teaching full-time…
I was in my prime and thought, if I can make this climb…all would be sublime

You were just babes of six months and four; some of my most heavenly days were when we three had the time to explore

You were four years apart…also some of my most arduous days… Lonely at night, yet I possessed a heart full of praise

It was a struggle up till then I found unmatched…No one to share the the joys and the burdens attached

Then along came Jimmy, my first true love and comrade…We were finally complete, no longer a triad…I had found you a Real Dad!

We were stronger than ever for eight wonderful years…Then came the sudden loss, followed by years of tears and fears.  The sinking feeling my family’s progress now in constant arrears

I do not recall how it was that we survived…I feel that since then my dears have not again thrived

Nine years have both dragged and simultaneously flown by…A year of therapy helped give closure to me…You boys would not partake in the counseling that helped set me free

Blessed with a Besty, though hardly the same…My boys, now young adults make choices that make my heart feign...What a mistake to think for a moment the hardest was behind us…That truth I cannot Wait to attain

The older you grow, now ages nineteen and twenty-three…The deeper my heart is wounded by your self-created (fine lives) lacking the luster of glee

Each of you chose different domains…Both scenarios keep me fraught with pains  

As I once more begin to thrive, I bear the suffering of decisions my children continue to contrive

Oh Universe, I implore you…Be kind to my children, let each experience bring them closer to wise

May they seize each day as the gift that it is…bring them out of arrears and closer to striving to Thrive


											Mom
Form: Rhyme

Godot Paid Me a Visit

While constipation kept me in arrears,
asper daily writing,
     thus ordinarily straight forward
     practiced process culling material,

     (a daily endeavor generally mastered
     by your truly), this moment bares
with more difficulty, thus derriere's
functionality created backlog

     (of personal business),
     hence presenting literary chops,
     a real bummer today,
disgruntlement with Fanny Pack,

     (which gripe flares
cheeks) pitted me considerably
     behind schedule, so...here's
the scoop (hoop fully solid explanation

     for my absence) amidst
     virtual chattering class
     otherwise known as Face booking,
     Instagramming, and Whatsapp

     pin with ma Jeers
zee Boyz'n the hood,
     ah...also dem "Back Street Boys"
     oh mother f***er...,

     I just learned day got eliminated
     and blocked, (cuz o' their wiped out,
     wasted, sunken,
     flushed, dumpy untidily

     bowled over appearances),
     Sergeant Scott Coreless forced their
     evacuation citing Lumineers
     as more ass toot,

hence the emcee then welcomed,
     opening dreck "Johnny On The Spot,"
     and the "The Proctologists,"
     who performed before nares

     Naked Lady sighted spectators, with
     lovers spooning within cheeky pairs
     otherwise, essentially a pooped out crowd
     sitting on their haunches,

while myself perched
     some distance away
     with my comfortably numb tuckus
     atop the porcelain Goddess

     a awaiting emetic to expel
for iCloud to finish updating
before continuing with sign out...
     from this Macbook Pro,

     which aye sheepishly pro state
as the long winded soup peer
re: or (flatulence riddled) explanation.

The Reflective Path

Some say 
 the experiences and encounters along life's paths and ways,
 it's the journey that we're on,
 the sibling rivalry, the parental guides in each direction gone,
from birth to death we do our best on the earthly scene
come what may in the in-betweens.

I don't see it that way despite the tears
 my eyes grow more cataract in arrears
 over these fading years.

This path, this life's perpetual dance,
 molds and form us with our stories to be told by circumstance
is a journey full of plans and accidents unbound
 love is given and is taken, is lost and in forever found
to keep us ever on the path we cast
 along with earthbound spirits of the past.

I've walked it all these years in ice and fire,
 teetering and tight roped on the wire
 toes and feet are well worn and body tired.

Now time,
 is catching up, passing by in the roadside signs
 once slow and precise, occasionally on pause
 takes a look back in the mirror with quiet sigh and  applause
reflections of thoughts in my mind wanderings to look
 telling me to be grateful for the journey and the path I took.

I have regrets, not always won
 they will never be undone
 forgive me each and every one.

But you
 cajoling and supporting every possible view
ever by my side, my lover and my guide as time took
 not once measured by directions in the book
but ever forward, bold and innocent, sinner and repentant
 the path was clouded then cleared, forged unlamented.

I'm grateful for this life, of living in the day
 happy to have been and still be here upon the way
 what more can I say;
It's the reflection over time that lasts
 bound by images and dreams refined and now passed
 lives are drawn and quartered imprinted by the paths we cast.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sestina

Premium Member The Gret of Regret, Soliloquy

*Image of Hellboy II: The Golden Army by Wallpaper Flare.
AUDIO: Tip; Right-click on volume then click on Loop of the drop-down menu for continuous play.

The Gret of Regret, Soliloquy

I remember, but naught too well, the first time of Hellboy, an earthy creature, a-must-be, heaven would naught have created a being such as he, and after all, he's naught an "it", oh no, for he thinks -- methinks, much too straight-forwardly and on his feet to boot. Move before they do and always get to the upper hand of things, seems to be his John Madden playbook of the '70s. Why bother with logic and reason when Hellboy is dealing with fragile minds bent on world conquest.

The Golden Army, the Hellboy movie I've seen some years ago when my kids, were kids -- and I being the eldest. Vagueness plagues me to no end, but the inkling gist was a brother and sister duo, but sadly, naught so much so, for sister played her own brother and teamed with Hellboy instead. The telltale sign envisioned in the frat's eyes, being the wherewithal, their Ides of March to be -- in arrears, of betrayal. To be undone by the one, by the very one.

Life can be fleeting but we came to know that honor fleets faster. Though the appearance of its angle for the perspective of the movie was considered simply as a sidetrack sorta thing, yet in and of itself, became the films main attraction, piquing interest within the audiences already situated in full enjoyment of the twist, and how it will all play out in that, edge-of-the-seat moment. Alas, ambiguity wins at the end, for death did occur, but whose? Naught Hellboy, I'm certain of that!

2022 January 28
*2nd Place*
Mignolaverse
~~Robert James Liguori: Judged 2022 January 31
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member The Ballad of Poker Alice

She was a wily cigar chompin' gambler with the moniker of Poker Alice,
Renowned throughout the west for her skill in many a gamblin' palace!
Poker Alice had a good head for countin' and with her very cunnin' guile,
(Plus her beauty), she mesmerized her opponents, amassin' quite a pile!

Poker Alice worked in saloons across the west as a faro and poker dealer.
She worked in Creede, Colorado for Bob Ford, that notorious stealer!
Because of her pious rearin' as a girl, she refused to work on Sundays,
But she was back smokin' a two-dollar stogie and dealin' cards on Mondays!

She drifted to Deadwood, South Dakota, where her notoriety was well known,
And married a house painter named Tubbs who was a deft gambler on his own!
Later she established a brothel near Fort Mead Army Post with her ill-gotten gain.
The place was small and she needed funds to fix the 'house' on Pleasure Lane!

To expand and recruit 'soiled doves' from Kansas City she applied for a loan.
The banker scratched his skull sayin', "I dunno! That's a risk into the unknown!"
She convinced him notin' that The Grand Old Army had an encampment near,
And for the soldiers' bent for visitin' hog ranches, he had nothin' at all to fear!

Things didn't go well since she plumb forgot The Methodist Preachers' Convention,
Convened each and every year and she hadn't figured on that intervention!
Poker Alice's fame and notoriety followed her well beyond her wanin' years.
She died after a gall bladder operation with her 'house' payments in arrears!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No. 4 in Don Johnson's " Your Old Ballad Or Rhyme - Best Of All Time" Contest
July 2011
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Night of a Thousand Tears

Night of a thousand tears

Another day breaks,
and I'm still here
I was kind of hoping,
I would just disappear

Since you left,
I want to, sleep my life away
but I haven't slept now,
for twenty days

I should try to work, because,
my rents, in arrears
I'm what you might call,
a guy in between careers

Bridge 1
When you we're here,
we had lot's of dreams,
but for you,
they were nightmares
at least to me,
that's how it seems

Chorus
Just another night,
of a thousand tears,
days turn to weeks,
and weeks to years
but, I'll polish our memories
like prized souvenirs,
it's, just another night,
of a thousand tears

I wake up ready,
to make the best of the day
I cook up our breakfast
in the usual way

The coffees all ready,
brewed nicely for two
Your mugs still on the shelf,
now what do I do?

Days turn to weeks,
in the blink of an eye,
I'm getting older,
and I don't even try

My life had a purpose,
when you were here
and just like a fool,
I'll wait for you to appear

Chorus
Just another night,
of a thousand tears,
days turn to weeks,
and weeks to years
but, I'll polish our memories
like prized souvenirs,
it's, just another night,
of a thousand tears

Bridge 2
I just can't get used to
being on my own
I'm not the kind of person
who likes to be alone
My heart feels like it's been pierced, 
by a thousand spears, 
it's, just another night of a thousand tears.


It's just another night of a thousand tears
It's just another night of a thousand tears

repeat and fade to zero

John Derek Hamilton
July 8,2017
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Then a Flaming Pterodactyl Ate My Homework

Please dear Sir
you have tutored me and known me for years
as have all other teachers and your peers,
we get along like silver knife and fork!
these past semester has been full of cheers
my school work has never been in arrears,
never did I let you down on homework!

like before as diligent as ever,
I read lessons from cover to cover,
and finished all my home work late past night,
I walk to school a mile along river,
did so today braving wind and shower,
in satchel was my homework done alright!

halfway down I pass a gothic tower,
flower gardens where butterflies hover,
not a human soul anywhere in sight!
as I was pacing my way to get here,
suddenly I heard some flapping quite near,
all of the sky went up in flames and bright!

like I have been taught in our school before,
was on hands and knees, went on all my fours,
I heard eerie sound, felt a big birds flight!
it was trying to pluck me from the floor,
but just managed to snatch my bag and soar,
to perch itself on birch tree of great height!

ran as fast as I could in abject fear,
was scared and thought it may be on my rear,
looked back to see but I was still in fright!
Now Sir! you may not believe what you hear,
perched on top of a tree, could see quite clear,
a huge pterodactyl like flaming kite!

you may think 
I may be lying or have gone berserk,
but am still 
shaking with ordeal of lost homework!

N/A in John Lawless sponsored
‘Flaming Pterodactyl ate my homework’ contest!
10 syllables with 3 syllables interspersed at the beginning and towards the end
written 22/01/2021
Form: Rhyme

Defecation Dilemma

gluteus maximus left and right half moon cheek

re: byte size buttock attached via usb 
   
(uniform firm behind) to this freak

with bowel movement 
   
incontinence + gas filled gut evoking contortionist 
   
frown stretching to lowest peak

perched upon porcelain goddess 

   where elimination did jut held captive hostage 
   
atop toilet seat for many a week

exertion to expel rock solid turd required utmost effort

to force jammed bowel movement free

inducing excruciating abdominal cramps really hurt

plus sharp jabbing spasms within high knee

innards rent asunder 
   
obstruction as canon gun size BALLS did spurt

lodged fecal matter refusing to budge from me

caused by severe constipation 

   whereby prayer a waste delivered only increased 

   sphincter muscle to scream

for rectal relief this mortal man faced

a worse fate than death, he would deem

since demise would allow alimentary misery to cease

versus remaining in this impasse for what might be years

unless perchance **** lubricant or special grease

would bust loose abominable 
   
constriction in arrears finding me unable 

   to pay rent or renew lease

best prospect of remaining stationary 

   with words to wax

poetic found a glimmer of luck

when a kind wildebeest 

   delivered this message via fax

to help this male in dire per situation getting 

   pam purred poop unstuck with outsize mug of exlax

to help unclog rectal muck

access to get expunged to the max

but once expulsion occurs 

   DO DO PLEASE DUCK!

No One Really Cares Part 1

NO ONE REALLY CARES

Part 1

No one really CARES so our minds are in arrears, 
We don't care because we live in fear, 
So we stop caring, stop steering and forget what we are hearing,
But I try to do the opposite, 
I invite knowledge as a fit open minded disciple, 
Mindful principles while keeping afar from idols and fools, 
In this physical life experience with natural rules,
Everything we observe is a reaction of something,
Learning from all the reactions of my exterior,
And a teacher that enlightens to get ya,
Understanding deeply putting perceptions on track,
Sacking deceptions that I see clearly as wack,
Quincy Mac is back on the attack seeing we are ALL sick, 
Deceived by our leaders through exoteric information, 
But the truth is within an Ancient Esoteric examination,
Where we find the true explanation on how to stop our current damnation.

Subatomically observed, 
These wise words are here to disturb, 
The spiritual learned and unlearned, 
Get ready to be over turned,
Open up your eyes, you need to learn what's in disguise,
So if you know how to discern wisely,
The unseen thinking patterns manifesting into Brain Activity,
Manifested and seen in a 3D reality,
The probability of the following possibility, 
Of all of us having an Elite controlled Proxy,
Controlling almost all humans including you and me,
Stopping us from seeing,
Truth revealing truths, hidden so unseen,
A word to the listener reading this,
A left brain prisoner, a manipulators dream,

continued........at part 2

Quincy Mac
date written: 22.12.2015
© Quincy Mac  Create an image from this poem.

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