Long Audience Poems

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


Sung In Perfect Pitch

ENJOYING THE EMBARRASSMENT OF  RICHES
THEY SOUGHT TO SEEM ASHAMED
THEY COLLABORATED TO GAIN A 
GREATER UNDERSTANDING
TO EXPLAIN THEIR  WHAT THEY THOUGHT NEEDED
EXPLANATION
THEN WHICH IS RIGHTER
THAN WHICH IS REAL
THEY MAKE FOLY OF THESE DOINGS
AND MAKE FICTIONS THE FACTS TO BE REAL
THEY SEAM THE DRESS FOR
HER DECEPTION
TO MAKE WHAT HAS HAPPENED
 TO SEEM MORE REAL
THE SOUNDS WHICH ECHO
MIGHT THE SINGER STAND BEFORE HIS AUDIENCE
MIGHT HE STREAM HIS SONG AS A BELLOW
TO MAKE EXPLAIN WHAT THE CONDUCTOR FEELS
IT'S TO BE SUNG THIS WAY
AND MIGHT YOU ENJOY IT
THE RANGE WAS CHOSEN TO THE COMFORT
OF THE SINGERS VOICE
THE MUSIC DESIGNED TO COMPLIMENT
THE SONG
SHY ME TO MY ROOM
THEIR MIGHT I STAY UNTIL
I AM FOR BEST SIGHT
TO BE SEEN BY AUDIENCE AND LOVERS
BOTH OF MUSIC AND LOVERS OF THE NIGHT
Form: Ballade


A Needle in a Haystack

A Needle in a Haystack

Life on a bagel with memories and cheese
Beyond tragedy
The way It brought you to your knees touch you 
The way I am
Talking to the girls 
People shame me as a man
Build light and build card houses straight
The Final dance to help rescue me
Mysterious fool
No escape
No Proof without a sacred stance

I have made a mistake or two
Living more or dying less 
Music's little sensors captivated audience  
Being gentle with the  times makes me mad
Guided by nature
Into future disasters 

In this hood they yell out 
Give us more
Liquid cigarettes
Talking appears as a game 
The listener always wins
Looking through the peephole of the insane
Cheap love or no at all
Go back to the Bible
Think back to when you were a child
Faking the innocent 
Taking a walk down the tracks
With some cigarettes 
Ice cool iron 
Screaming to keep out the heat
Out of luck out of shade
Right through the summers night
Holy shoes with everything unmade
And a stick like a bindle

Id like to take you across the skies
Ill just let you go  cares and crys 
Standing with no  base 
Something new 
A perfect time
Wearing new souls
Trading liberty for gold i hate it i hate it
Bring the ship about
We are heading south
Diamonds demon poor seedlings
Feed the laughter 
laugh at struggles 
Laugh cause we don't know
Purple tears so thin
 
 Naked is the night when all is hush
 Party's dim their lights, Amongst the nocturnal shapeshifters,the deepest of lusts jetters
 and shakes 
But nobody sees
Nobody knows
But the moon which tells the cow 
The secrets of the night
The cow lives for these stories
Then he himself has many dreams of human beings
Their character and appetite for lust and romance
The cow has accepted its fate
To dream the events of any given night
Produced by  the  Moon

The Blarney Stone

a didactic poem

When eloquence leaves you a’wanting,
if verbal effluence you’re flaunting,
should your audience appear daunting,
kiss the Blarney Stone.

     I climbed the circular tower,
     reached the hundred ninety-third step, 
     and waded through unhurried queue.

     I trembled with anxiety, 
     gasped for ev’ry uncertain breath,
     and paused to view but then I knew.

     Hidden underneath the rampart
     this infamous bluestone will rest
     I shan’t pursue my lips on blue.

When commonsense says,  “No way”,
if plain prudence seeks delay,
should consequence have its say,
pass the Blarney stone.


6
Form: Didactic

Premium Member NO TIME TO WASTE

Made up Broadway Show
Had to put you in the know
Marquee is set
Visual aid effect
The theory of Fast
The thought of how long
Rehearsals have been for weeks
You are in for a treat
Just don’t retreat
Clock ticking
Almost showtime
Wardrobe change
The background stage is ready
We can’t be late
Remember your script lines
You will do fine
Audience are in their seats anticipating
Overture has begun
You have been invited among
Spotlight on
Curtain rises
Feel the anxiety
The show of wheeling and dealing
Love affairs
Emotions
True dramatics
Rushes and hushes
Face to Face
Pace to Pace
Never ending
Always surviving
Never ending
The applause
The excitement
Amazement
Cast takes their bow
Curtain goes down
Music decreases
Broadway Night
Dazzle in sight
Entertainment
Fulfilling commitment
Uphill climb with time to waste.
Form: Rhyme

Divine Frenzy

Divine frenzy

Those who have the muse of madness in the soul,
passing through the doors of intuition very artful.
Where music and poetry play the touches of mad,
from the genius and sacrificing melancholy of insanity of load.
In the state of divine possession, the enraptured performer in height,
effecting the listeners soul to similar ecstatic union in resonance alright.
Magical procedure or mass psychotic transaction,
the act of engendered furies stimulating creative attraction.
Stimulus divine will as it manifest throughout creation,
the multiverse in individual subtle emotion.
Symbolic energies extend to the realm of sense,
and their efficacy do what they patently do intense.
The chaos and the melancholic drama of meaning,
enduring metaphor in natures law of karmic being.
The soul as an instrument of its kind,
penetrates to its innermost core for synchronicity to find.
Imitation of celestial qualities and interaction of spirit revealed,
the performance and audience in close contact concealed.
Form: Ballade


Premium Member Eclectic Idiosyncrasy

when correct spelling eludes you write a different word
stay true to the anarchy poetry form make it up as you go
a haiku is just a Japanese limerick and a tad bit shorter
conceived on delicate sake rather than a stout Guinness
once the tongue is loosened and the audience plastered
any syllable count deceives what is meant to be voiced

at the end of a pub crawl harp and zither sound quite alike
shamisen and all strings attached resonate just the same
true to the nature of art what pleases with passionate sound
sometimes refuses to be squeezed into reverend lines
if one looks at some ever so famous writing one wonders
what kind of mushrooms inaugurated such magic outpour

on a more sober matter poetry is in the eye of beholders
dysphonia on steroids is a natural remedy for logophobia
one man’s incoherence is another one’s mythical calling
but courage is bravery however you wish to pronounce it

there was once a young man it Haikushima
illiterate is what he was called by Mama 
who’s whiskey lacked lime
did not give a dime
when he spent a penny someone stole his thunder and drama

green fields and butterscotch clover
fragrance of Irish Oak blossoms -
lost for words the weather staid speechless

in case of any doubt in the mind of the affectionate reader
this poetry form is part of the extended self-critical monologue
style currently still in its experimental encrypted stage which
in its naive but raw and expressionate timbre is meant to confuse

03rd March 2021

MARKED

She stood at the lectern
Teaching from restoration
Yet, not one audience member
Could deny her infection
...damaged

Tattooed from face to feet
Living, sobriety from drugs
No matter his freedom
He's always just a thug
...recovering

Pockmarked as a teen
She can still hear their jokes
Yelling across campus
Forever binding her with yokes
...weighing

They gather in the courtyard
Demanding for relief
Clothes clinging to frail bodies
Walking with the constant grief
...marked

Oh wholey soul
How far you have come
But no matter the progress
The absence of all you have done
...remains

................MARKED

Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-26-2024
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Speak no evil

In the crepuscular halcyon sunset, bells tolled urging
the desultory audience to attend the sermon of the new pastor.
Despite their cynical sentiments, they dared not absent themselves.
The look of visceral satisfaction on the pastor’s face 
was unmistakable.  Outside light became penumbra,
Still, men and women trudged towards the chapel
as the dirge-like bells faded into silence.  His audience was silent too.
He spoke in a sonorous voice, in an opulent resonant poetic vein,
an exuberant style which was to be his familiar characteristic:
Unbridled jealousy is a sin, he intoned, so speak no evil, my friends.



The interpretation of the listeners is FICTION. Still the advice is correct.

Premium Member Down To Egypt

The drought had swept throughout the land
But under Pharoah’s dream-led reign
Joseph foresaw, provisions planned

So Jacob sent his sons for grain
And down to Egypt, down they went
But youngest Benjamin remained

Then Joseph, hearing they’d been sent
Then called them for an audience
They came before him, bowed and bent

They had not seen him those years since
Did not discern who he was now
Then Joseph pressed, became intense.

“You come before me and you bow,
Yet you are here to spy my land!”
Then quick were they to disavow,

“We’re brothers, honest to a man
And only here in search of food
With humble posture, outstretched hand.”

The spy charge, Joseph still pursued;
He would not let them off the hook,
And so he struck a bargain shrewd

“Upon your youngest must I look
While one retrieves him, all remain.”
And then he locked them up like crooks.

Once three days passed, he made it plain:
“Do this and live, for I fear God.
One will stay here, the rest take grain,

But I will know you are all frauds
Unless with youngest you return.”
Then signaled captors with a nod.

Their shame and guilt then surfaced, burned,
“He begged us, but we headed not.”
Distress they felt indeed well earned.

In hushed tones, secret, so they thought,
But Joseph, hearing, turned and wept,
In stealth, returned the cash they’d brought.

That night fear, panic, over-swept
Them all on looking at their grain
Seeing their coins then, they too wept.

How it was there, none could explain.
“What is this God has done to us?”
They cried, returning home in pain.

Yes, down to Egypt, down they went
Not understanding they’d been sent.

(from Genesis 42:1-28)
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sometimes, I Follow Faded Stars

Whilst I await slumbering, I look forward to
the night’s nebulous dome, 
there, the winkers’ wisp in background watercolor
Indigo, violets, bluesy cobalt passions
I try and describe as best I can
such wispy delicacy, it seems, 
in such an incredibly vast variety
far above gravity’s expanse 
Can I make sense of it all?  Inky space clouds 
blinky storms of lantern spiritual guides, 
they navigate notions into stellar minds 
where porcelain poetry resides,
across oceans, they give us hope in darkened times
The brightest star gleams its essence, 
and comforts the dreamers 
clusters follow it, warming their hearts, 
taken by its swaying stardust of magical menageries`
Exuberant eyes that twinkle linear force pulling all in
with its meticulous melodies, inking such
along the skylines, sonnets of indulging desires
endearing, flowery forestry, filled with filigree
Of gold and silver linings, wishing upon itself
and all is lost, its measure prioritized,
selling sanctuaries with no patina 
The light grows dim, the longer it starves 
the dark side commences, the eye of the eye winces,
and winks with sly
Besides, it has shown its realities 
and the rapt audience 
once billowing over it, 
have unveiled the vile shadow
which makes steel struck, stifled 
Its healing horizons have none after all,
betraying those in need of its light, 
fueling its starship of starlight ego
of its own, smothering, smoldering 
shooting the stars to smithereens 

Sometimes I follow the faded stars,
the sun sinks into earth
Her horizon sends darkness
yet says it’s light always~
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

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