Long Attests Poems
Long Attests Poems. Below are the most popular long Attests by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Attests poems by poem length and keyword.
After papa succumbed
to congestive heart failure
October 7th, 2020 yours truly
neglected fulfilling promised score.
I did shirk maintaining bond
with youngest sister
who when a boy especially fond
regarding said sibling
whereat myself and and Shari Todd
played cat and mouse
chasing each other to pond
necessitating both of us to traverse
wooded thicket simultaneously
waving our magic wand.
Boyhood of mine chock full of memories
framing me and most favorite playmate
requiring keen eye to distinguish
one scrawny little lad no one would debate
impossible mission to discern
thirty three month age difference,
cuz we appeared to naked eye
as identical twins.
Flickering images of yesteryear
pepper memory faculty where
froze frieze in time
trigger an errant tear
trickling down cheek,
when impish gonif nsync
with me comprised pair
of inseparable Harris offspring
in sum re: portrayed analogy
likened to everyday idyllically kleer
pitch perfect courtesy
weatherman/woman maker engineer.
Our late father though cremated
would if alive furrow ashen brow
aware how Matthew Scott remiss
and no longer doth bother
(essentially incommunicado between
himself and kid sister
ever since she left home
at age seventeen)
for greener pastures,
which meadow (for success -
defined as transcending
her inherent limitations)
sowed the seeds
of her life reaped with utmost
plentitude of hardihood.
Her sixty first birthday
arrives six days from today
(October eleventh two thousand
and twenty two) - decades spanned
with nary acknowledgement
expressed courtesy sole brother manned
existence floundering like a fish
in treacherous waters
barely gasping breath
as he felt afflicted with chronic anxiety
emotionally whipsawed hither and yon
to and fro across
unwritten pages of his life.
Yours truly attests feeling aghast
once upon a time resorting
to self starvation initially omitting breakfast
subsequently forgoing every meal
prepubescence witnessed absent enthusiast
for livingsocial hence,
my death I chose to forecast
fortunately no coroner
called to perform autopsy inquest
about which severe
psychological suicidal ambition I jest.
Sky for my canopy,
Stars for my sparkling light,
Feel fancy free easy,
Breezy chill prompts insight.
Here by the midnight lake,
Murky waters lurk deep,
Lonely paths footsteps take,
Verge of moonbeams lull sleep.
Cricket cacophony,
A sonata of groans,
Wind moves strange melody,
A shrieking wave of moans.
Odd silhouette in the park,
Parkway bench fast asleep,
Mosquitoes in the dark,
Feasting vampires poke deep.
Late night darkness forlorn,
Strange mystic air attests,
Shimmering dreams now borne,
Chilly winds now arrest.
Leon Enriquez
06 February 2018
Singapore
Strolling down the streets of ancient Pompei,
I discovered the tomb of a freed noble man;
unearthed from the volcanic black ashes,
now it blooms surrounded by fragrant lilies
as it appeared in its imperial, glorious days!
Looking closer, I noticed tools itched
on its sides, the trade of a freeman
once enslaved by his wealthy master,
and to prove that he was also of a noble
spirit, he wanted to be remembered
for his achievements and his intellect!
Not all Romans were cruel as History attests,
but had a good heart helping the lower class;
had the Emperor made aware of such generosity,
they would have been killed or thrown to the beasts!
Our greedy society is similar, workers being underpaid;
its an invisible slavery and yet it gives us shivers
for their unhuman condition and horrible abuse:
Rome's mentality of slavery survives to our day!
The proud sons of immigrants will arise to avenge
their fathers rage, they will sit with the prominent ones
sharing the same ideals and status that honor freedom!
Build my marble tomb by the shade of cypresses,
plant jasmines and lilacs around it and let them bloom;
the late image of me on the top with a pen on the right
and a notebook on the left...what a lovely display
of my vocational trade! Will someone discover my grave?
The brief epithet itched in italic letters should read:
" Born a free man and died a free man in a foreign land."
Far as the (ease)
severely myopic eyes can see,
nothing but polluted atmosphere
where skull and crossbones
memento mori betokens beware,
especially with increasing chronology
mortality becomes crystal clear
existential crisis yours truly didst despair
not so much death itself, but failure
(inadequacy) at livingsocial
mine life to the hilt
plain as day everywhere
casual attitude apropos
(pertinent personal paradigm
regarding aspiring poet)
equals laissez faire,
hence the following
his apt nom de guerre
emotionally castrated docile heir.
Minimal milestones attained he
blithely professes, grants, attests,
et cetera as general rule
barely squeaked by
(think graduating high school)
weatherbeaten and rust covered cerebral tool
smartly linkedin cogs and wheels
buzzfeeding delicate threads didst unspool
above mentioned metaphor near
perfectly, quintessentially, and realistically virtual
extempore description hoopfully edifies
thee dear reader figuratively yours truly
got swallowed into vortex whirlpool.
Maelstrom pitched me to and fro
hither and yon into damndest chaos
drowned me under dead end zone
fiercest storm ever
raging across Lake Woebegone
stronger than bajillion healthy
male primates oozing testosterone
empowered with indomitable strength
downing ordinarily toxic
(even infinitesimal quantity) quinone
think beefy hulking Hercules types
built powerlifters second to none
pulsating pecks, quaking quads,
and ripped reputations
far and wide known
with versatility now
smattering of lines
constituting this poem I hone.
Invisible omnipresent nemesis,
(perhaps the Schwenksville Strangler)
appears intent on asphyxiating,
and simultaneously forcing yours truly
to experience unbearable
oppression, humiliation, and agitation,
whereby joie de vivre extinguished
provoking sadness linkedin
with remembrance of things past
agonizing, kickstarting torturing
absolute zero ability to relish the present
essentially forced to recollect
nasty, short and brutish mailer daemons
characterizing diabolical ghosts
representing nauseating, and haunting
hurtful dirty deeds done dirt cheap
courtesy my selfishness
verboten fruit tasted within recent past
now the bitter aftertaste
analogous to Scrooge
suddenly horrified about his stingy self.
Acta Non Verba... Speaks Volumes
The above ad hoc Latin catchphrase,
(concatenated with two English words),
I regale chance reader
immediately sets ablaze
title of poem with timeless adage,
aptly suits this solitary
older male, whose daze
spent on planet Earth
aimless curriculum vitae
configures a zigzag maze
significant blocks of time
poorly aye now appraise
and rue so little forethought
wrought starry eyed glaze
amiss to any Amish,
colonial, horse drawn observer
passing by in their chaise
puzzled, asper my
doggone catatonic gaze
indicative as if me mind
lost in a foggy haze
yours truly attests,
concurs, he now flays
chastises, fulminates, lays
hard and heavy lament,
albeit cloistered frivolous,
lackadaisical, unproductive... ways
apathetic, estranged, indifferent...
ambivalent state comatose phase
toward life, when at young age
lacked joie de vivre evincing braise
zen lee oblivious zombie behavior
upon quick observation displayed craze
zee demeanor synonymous
with institutionalized craze
zee wardens of the state,
and at present realize futility to raise
hullabaloo, when 20/20 hindsight
shines figurative light on
how appeared to laze
about lost in space,
within outer limits
of my own twilight zone ways!
I sometimes hear people complain
of all the things we eat,
getting really hung up about
the consumption of meat,
Most are caught up in their feelings,
thus not worth talking too,
a few will try to reason out
some kind of point-of-view.
They’ll say they don’t want to be part
of bringing death or pain,
as if they will get virtue points
for choosing to abstain,
but when I think more about it
the whole things falls apart,
when it comes to how we survive
I don’t know where to start,
perhaps with a quite simple claim
to which the truth attests:
That every single man alive
was born to live off death.
Is not a farmer a killer
of every crop he plants?
You pull a carrot from the ground,
the carrot plant is damned.
Every time you cut down that wheat
you risk killing the grass,
and each potato you dig up
bring death to the plant fast.
And every piece of fruit you pluck
is a tree abortion,
you want to eat without killing?
I say it can’t be done.
Plowing a field will slaughter all
the mice, and moles, and bugs,
also chews up their earthly homes,
all the lairs they’ve dug.
Even clearing a field itself
brings death on a grand scale,
the trees and critters now displaced,
most could not even wail;
All replaced for a single plant,
it’s corn supremacy!
Which cannot live without man’s help,
unlike the now-dead tree.
Unless you’re eating salt alone
I’d say it’s a fair bet,
that just like every man that eats,
you’re living off of death...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Guarana Mo!
Most of the follow
wing (fictitious) quit
tuss cent shill, knit
head, (non adult tryst) pit
tee full (sorry excuse
for originality), rit
dunk yule huss, feebly
abominable attempt at unit
tarry yen rhyme for excellence,
benignly, essentially,
and honestly wit
less, worthless reading mitt
tear real - dashed off
(by this hare reed rabbit),
wall henna burst of
(playful tulles toy) warren peace,
aye practically spit
out (from inxs of carrot juice),
now dost daringly be hove
brave reeder to comprehend
this dime metrical kickstarter fit -
bawling contrived nada very tit
till late ting, nor
not so great English lit,
and moost unlikely tuff hind
posthumous fame,
worm ma obit
chew wary verb boss
lee probably re:nouns,
(this once upon
a time pablum child),
nor e'en garner this hare reed
ole Jack a one hit
wonder poetic laureate,
nonetheless this
(o' whar did me bunny go),
perhaps to Brit
tin endeavoring merely
to join United Kingdom
(and merrily) writ
for the underground
to test skill at
heart felt fabrication like me,
thus exempting bing
considered, judged,
and labeled tubby unfit.
Now let yours truly whoop
focus to address main intent,
(sans for quick
pick me up)
and nary drop of coffee,
nope not even one molecule
to fill thimbleful sized cup
I reach for bottle of Guarana,
(one serving of
coffee per capsule)
fo' this aging pup,
who attests that caffeine
(liquid and/or
encapsulated), the sole vice
(except for barbiturates, cocaine,
"FAKE" opioid, et cetera),
which overdose nearly found me
nearly a grateful dead – thrice
occasions, where
circumstances of Mus
self (Stuart Little reincarnate -
with an insatiable
craving for cheese
laced with Guarana,
Paullinia cupana,
a climbing plant
in the maple family),
which bean sized seeds
affordable at an acceptable price
many times larger
than puffed rice.
My somewhat outsize ears and longish neck
(I swear exist, which contrary to popular myth
never seen by living persons) support this egg shaped
(fried or scrambled some might argue) head.
A mostly flat and hairless chest attests to a regular
regimen of light (self-concocted) chest-pounding routine.
Exercise (as well as meditation) a vital part of my
daily program to deal with the ordinary stresses
of primitive existence. Coffee happens to be the
sotto voce sole vice, which exotic brews provide
helpful jump-start. I sometimes even chump on cup
kept teeth sharp. That unproductive habit came
to a screeching halt after breaking every pearly white.
Now to that locale known as the trumpeting rump
pull stilts skin. Although the unseen forces of biology
and genetics dealt me an itsy bitsy, tiny tushy
(which serves as the but for fellow Apes to taunt
and tease) such anatomical feature offers little
value as the worthiness of sexual prowess.
This palm pilot sized gluteus Maximus offers one benefit.
Ease to squeeze into tight spaces without getting stuck.
This tiny tushy accompanied by a vestigial and
teeny-weensy Weiner schnitzel of a phallus, which
undersized cock a doodle do doth bulge into
an erectile state within shooting distance of
coveted warm, wet and wooly private world
property of each and every woman.
A pair of skinny (flamingo like) legs (covered in
adequate hair) now completes this general character sketch.
chin lightly nested atop
loosely peopled interlaced fingers
supported via multi purpose table
bent arms displayed elbows cocked
(approximately gabled
at ninety degree angle),
which pose frequently assumed
when pondering what to write,
an idea spawned when clothed left fingered limb
inadvertently roiled the so called "funny bone"
named because of funny feeling generated
when Ulnar nerve compression
triggers pseudo shock sensation
coursing one direction or another
traveling from neck down into hand
constricted in several places along the way
such as beneath collarbone
or at wrist
most common place for compression
(hands down)
behind inside part of elbow
medical terminology tagged
"cubital tunnel syndrome."
interestingly enough, this scribe attests
more frequent occurrences along
liberal democratic side
no matter I claim dominant right handedness
and reckon eyes that human body electric
eel silly not perfectly symmetric
also chiming in that such vulnerability
a very minor design flaw
extant within the amazing
*****Sapiens anatomy.
Arsonists almost eighty, are
under arrest.' What to expect?
Zealots for climate cause?
Causing death; life attests!
Devestating action to cause
Draconian reactions? How
Much is reported? And what
Treatment(have they courted?)
Who will defend them? What
Will authoritys hand them?
A soft time of counceling? A
Time at Davos? Maybe a
A cancelling? I think that is
Far better, i'm not much on it
Per se' yet here it could have
A way' coupled with exposure
A way if healing, also closure?
Could 2023 hold some hope?
For reason and clarity not just
Force fed inhumanity' led by
Zero carbon insanity '