Long Believable Poems
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Disguised as an Apple Computer Technician.
He initially hacked Macbook Pro laptop.
He (alias Harvey Specter)
planted seeds of suspicion
that criminal activity prevailed
within my geographic area in general
or questionable individuals
lurked within or without
Citizens Bank in particular,
and suggested yours truly (me)
to be wary about
over friendly employees
at aforementioned capital one
storied financial institution.
Said gonif (pulled a masterful subterfuge)
inveigling yours truly to carry out heist
of the twenty first century
against his honest good n plenti resources
(subsequently checking and
savings accounts severely depleted).
The invisible webbed wide whirled net
ensnared me lock, stock and barrel.
Little did I know
the spellbinding impact
until the dirty deed done dirt cheap
found writer of these words
figuratively holding the empty bag
where I got forced to trod
analogous highway to hell
courtesy diabolical, inimical, satanical...
devil may care disguised cozener
who wove believable scenario
claiming Citizens Bank employees
involved in suspicious conspiracy
to siphon off hard earned bucks.
I submissively consented
to participate and cavalierly disperse
freshly minted Benjamins
suddenly linkedin
chain of events
rocketing, kickstarting, and experiencing
a worse horror than death
mortified at being bushwhacked.
The feeble explanation, justification,
qua obliteration, ululation
trumped with lame excuse
yours truly not in his right mind.
Mind control, (albeit remotely)
assassinated rationality while hypnotically
feeling commanded, governed,
née kid lee killed
mine esprit de corps
among kith and kin
consigning thrifty troubadour
to the depths of despair
wishing termination of existence
in tandem with damnation, interrogation,
penalization, et cetera of nasty brute.
After series of unfortunate events brought,
where innocence and naïveté caught
teetotaler tempted to drink deadly draught
of top quality hemlock sold
at many bustling entrepôt
cuz now existence fraught
with torturous quaking
nauseating, kickstarting hatred
of self, thus restitution
of funds sought
by folks willing bestow largesse.
If yes check out (fiasco from fraudsters
frazzles father)
legitimate platform
where charitable people swarm
and toys are sold.
Bring me a cup of Java, honey, and put some coffee in the water, will you?...
Whoa there! Bet you can feel the withering sarcasm in that simple phrase...
People, I welcome you to the world of crime novels by James Hadley Chase...
With cryptic titles like I'll Bury My Dead, it's a crime novel befitting even the dead...
The protagonists in every novel, Mr Chase humanized each of them in good stead...
As a crime writer, Mr Chase has no master, or even an equal of his calibre...
Dialogues, suave and cultured or in the low life lingo, is excellence beyond compare...
Most of all, the many believable twists and turns in every one of his crime story...
You'll empathise with the hero and the heroine, and root for them in each story...
What Is Better Than Money is yet another master yarn uniquely spun by Mr Chase...
About how a piano player bidding time tangled with a junky beauty with trilling vocals ....
It is amazing how you will identify with the struggling two bit piano player as he grapples...
With the opportunity of a lifetime to hitch his economic wagon on a less than perfect starlet..
In No Orchids For Miss Blandish, I remember rereading the same book twice over...
To be thrilled and to savour how the master story teller spun the story altogether...
Mind you, I was back then just a little boy, given access to the senior section of the library..
Faced with rows and decks of all kind of books, I was a bewildered boy lost in the library...
Then I spied a rather worn out hard cover book entitled No Orchids for Miss Blandish...
Small in print, yellowed in pages and looked slightly misbegotten, but the title intrigued..
Reaching home, I could not put down the book once I started reading that slim book...
I was thrilled, I was truly engrossed in a fascinating tale of crime found within a book...
Etched in my memory to this day, I recall vividly the awe and the joy in novels by Mr Chase...
Little wonder through the years I often read and reread crime novels spun by Mr Chase...
James Hadley Chase, crime story teller supreme, without any cheap graphic x rated scenes...
He is the ultimate maestro for story characters and crime tales that electrify your senses...
Readers, Mr James Hadley Chase, he's The Man for grippping realistic crime stories....!!!
"Night Flight"
the sky is
an open eye
blue as the
Orpheus ocean
clear in the
shallows' grit
naivety irritates it
birthing hard gems
it calls in
from beneath
the undertow
a new dawn
Morpheus deep
bipolar colours
unrecognisable
hues and tones
true tides
swiftly turn and
show themselves
for what they are
fair weather
in dark and light
there are monsters
always somewhere
casting their rods
fishing
for ulterior victory
displeased,
viscerally calm
hear their believable
impassioned pleas for peace
bought for the price
of freedom
there is no need
to bargain for bait
the fish swim to the hook
like well rehearsed sheep
the sky like a hawk watching
grey and heavy hooded
removed from it all
ghostly like a ghost
still and unobserved
watching, waiting
for humanity to call
the most feared
and loved,
in us all
it watches
day and night
it watches
us all
acknowledging
our slow fall
watching sad warriors
waiting
like sitting ducks
for the perfect storm
to close the call
to close
its eyelids
once and for all
the sky watches
it watches us all
it dreams of peace
to sleep without
the heart loaded
as a broken weapon
trigger ready, deadly
the calibre
of man,
well oiled
their noise is
desultory
no function
no form
but they are trigger ready
deadly, the calibre of man
well oiled
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"Nite Flights"/Bowie
https://youtu.be/xeGs4yJrZVY
"There's no hold
The moving has come through
The danger brushing you
Turns its face into the heat and runs the tunnels
It's so cold
The dark dug up by dogs"
CLOSE THE SKY/Ukraine
https://www.openpetition.eu/petition/online/people-around-the-world-ask-nato-to-close-the-airspace-over-ukraine
calibre, noun
1.
the quality of someone's character or the level of their ability.
2.
the internal diameter or bore of a gun barrel.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orpheus
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morpheus
LYRICS/ "Night Flights", Bowie
https://genius.com/David-bowie-nite-flights-lyrics
Here i sit
In the Country of my Scots
We are Albannach
Celts, we are taught
For many, many years
Our clans have fought and fought
Races have invaded our shores
But our freedom can not be bought
Our Clans are segmented throughout my lands,
in times of good we are in clannish dispute, and in
times of hardship, we congeal and unite as one
My questions and words, if you are there
You are obliged to listen, as i am here
If you are a teller, your words should be strong
Do you speak like Semaj, like his words do belong
I see these scrolls, from many years in worlds past
Written by elders, hidden to last
Their words of wisdom, powerful they may be
Come with me to the future, to the land of thee
These indigenous lands, spirits so free
In natures portfolio, they are the decree
For over two thousand years, religion has ruled.
Have we been taken in, and now in blinkered rule.
Do we look back to the Heathens, the Pagans the Mayans
where we look to our leaders, and their suppression
we rely on
Scriptures, books and scrolls, the writers of wisdom.
The elders of nations, in current living kingdoms
Without a book, there is no story, no paragraphs,
no believable glory.
In the modern days before 2012, in the world of Semaj
words can be heard. Tittle tattle about this and that,
once our worlds gone, that's that
A word in your ear
From father to son
Hear the word that I say
I fought with you
Fought on your side
Long before you were born
Joyful the sound
The word goes around
From father to son to son.
( Lyrics by Queen of Queen II )
My entry into Matt Caliri contest " If i Could Talk to God "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-6.php
Destiny determined that I do not forget that first Tuesday
in November 1980, and eight years later he said goodbye. So much good accomplished; so much evil averted. With a belief system developed over many years, he had an honorable philosophy tested and tried over time.
Losing his first attempt at national leadership, he was later
triumphant. He led the way rather than join the popular bandwagon, and unlike today's leaders, he believed that the latest polls were designed for information, not for adjustments of his opinions and the political slaughter of his opponent. Because of what he did yesterday, I believe in tomorrow.
A shining light, he was believable and earned our trust. I felt safer from our enemies, prouder, more confident, and certain.
He didn't draw lines in the sand but simply did what he said. When he forewarned interest groups, there were swift followthroughs that set a new tone of action in leadership. I don't deem him great because his domestic actions aided me personally. His common-sense principles
that benefited us all was the hallmark of his greatness.
I still hear the echoes of his words saying to us that our best days are ahead, and we haven't seen anything yet. Because of Ronald Reagan and the God he believed in, the God that our nation seems inclined to dethrone, we will remain ashore between the two great oceans and continue to be that Great Beacon of Light God intended for us to be.
012920PoSpCtest, Ode To A Great President of The Past, Sheri F. Harper HM
I know I have been on repeat for 15 years
I lost all my originality when I was sick and stolen from
My guess is it poured out along with my soul and fears
chasing after my sanity as it flowed away in tears
Its hard to come up with inspiration when your on pause
trying to justify the actions of those who love you
or at the very least come up with a justified cause
one they could of chases based on misinterpreting something they saw you say
or do
But best laid plans and lost causes your once dream life was taken from you
with nothing but a barely believable story that I can only take accountability
for not being strong enough to stay in the right when they made moves to take
my light and say it wasn't true
confused in the dark is not a reasonable place to figure out culpability.
The only thing I have left in me because I shed my soul daily I dont save up
because I cant promise all good every day so let it go good or bad send it
home
and start fresh the next day but I can't shed the memory of the darkness and
the way out it stays in me like a circuit loop in a conduit.
So I can travel in the darkness to shed light on those who stay there and
hope they find hope to search for light because follow me or you when its
their fight is not the best way.
all this said and I am still not right I no I may be meant for darkness to help
others overcome.
if thats true what all the pain to keep me here
so much inner strength it takes to just find a smile and a way to help others.
heal
when all I could been is gone why is that the deal
unloved and alone for 15 years fighting a war that free others.
but dooms me to something that I cannot hate or regret only dred
Hope that i did bot deserve it that I volunteered otherwise I may die in
clovers
But surely it is hell that waits for me.
I feel so unheard I pour out words that are not great
but they would carry meaning spoken to anyone strong and meek
from ear to ear of peasants and kings
and these words will carry a truth for all who truth seek
{And as we progress ever onward, I related all that need be said
Recounting only of recent and never the past for Twit to partake
Astonishingly for one as he, Twit’s astounding silence was almost unbearable
Listening too attentively, yet his welcoming approach was indeed charitable
And with the last of detail conveyed, we finally reach the summit
Though knowing time is against, my this one little time I’ll permit
There were breaths of splendour in company of unearthly delights
Leaves of green ever so rich with touches of dew in dusky sight
It was a moment so calm, where dreams are believable to come true
So full of divinity is the place and to think it even exist from few
Evermore so, with streaming waters running alongside so pure
Angelic times in melodic chimes in gentle harmony whence of yore
Breathtaking was the only thought in mind, yet I must press on
Laying Alkaiya on an enormous stone, I stood forth with Twit to guide along
Yet… of time within The Ancients exhausting away momentarily
An inevitable cause to open my eyes to see, I’m no more within flights of fantasy}
Was it a night I’ve slept to?
Was it a night before to remember?
Myself I awoke knowing not who?
Is there ever a moment to remember forever?
Ever once more, is the adventure to take root?
And once again, is adversity being the bringer of cause?
Are answers found in momentary neighbourhood?
Or be there givens to think always… for the lost!
Love in reality has nothing to compare…
Be it felt, be it dealt, simply misgivings to give
Yet threefold were in grievance to be aware
When its love in disorder and disarray to receive
I guess how I feel I haven’t the final say
Too much to consider, too much in deliberation about
Yet, whether reality or fantasy, them isn’t to sway
Is there a God or perhaps a Devil I can consult?
Love is there, love is where, love is everywhere
Whether in reality, either in dreams
With time only to belong an instance to share
Cause nothing in ever is ever to seem
……………………………
When I was little,
I've been suffered discrimination.
At starting point,
I couldn't be notice the situation.
Only difference between I and others
was that I was new commer.
I was not a native there,
I was a stranger.
I've learned about human,
that wasn't believable creature.
Every time I tasted pain,
I felt their poor and miserable nature.
Lots of sadness
came into my heart.
My damage was so severe,
that I couldn't restart.
There was nothing
to be helpful, around.
This was the true nature
of human being, I've found.
People always hate others,
who are different from them.
People never accept others,
that did not benefit them.
...Enough !!
I can't continue
being suffered terribly from them any more.
I can't continue
being nervous for their sake never more.
I thought
I could depend nothing on them at all.
I decided
standing on my own foot and withdrew them all.
No expect to others,
no discourages from them.
No reliance on others,
no betrayal by them.
I've learned
keeping safe distance from others all time.
And I've learned
to avoid troubles by those evils at anytime.
I could start
living peacefully in this way.
I thought
I would be going on this way.
And once I've been freed
from evil curse of people barely,
I've found the fact
they also hurt each other poorly.
I was disgusted but never thought,
it's my turn to negrect them.
Because, doing this way,
means I was the same with them.
I threw myself
into loneliness with silence.
Neither as a victim nor as an assaulter,
concern with them was out of my patience.
But after long time passed...
I could find a person,
who can kindly accept me.
We could understand each other
and this could change me.
Whether it was good or bad,
everything was acceptable.
Finally I knew warm heart of human
that let me think people a bit approvable.
29/Dec/2015
Fengleishanren.
Perhaps in another i.e. alternate world, this middled aged (baby boomer bona fide bra burner) of two well nigh near grown daughters felt caught in an invisible whirled wide web The Parent Trap.
Oft times, the languid days of his life seem to revisit a parallel universe, where sequels continue to air years since family time constituted shared watching thee designated Verizon Fios fiber optic channels favor by the youngest.
I confess sitting transfixed in from the television (back in the days when me girls attended grade school) marveling at the camera tricks purportedly played identical twins Hallie and Annie, but in reality the prepubescent actress averred asper the title of this missive.
A series of unfortunate events (perhaps abetted by Lemony Snicket) found these fictitious, marvelous, and vivacious separated in life soon after their parents divorced.
Happenstance and cutting edge cunning movie making wizardry linkedin believable existence of two exact looking innocent ingenues incorporating various tricks of the filming, directing, and acting of said nymph actress.
Some fluke chance encounter when both “girls” attended the same summer camp allowed, enabled, and provided the raw fitbits, whence each respective lass discovered visa vis via question asked and answered, that they shared the same mother and father.
Soon after this unexpected (believably conceived drama), they secretly plotted to reunite their estranged parents.
Although farfetched (which plot twist stretched to the realm of possible feasibility), nonetheless the story continued to offer appeal even after numerous viewings), when both my darling dimpled daubed daughters reveled in such small screen young adult age appropriate materiel.
Within a similar vein, the gestalt viz zit hid within Freaky Friday (also starring the same teenage uber vixen) gal riddled with an identity crisis twas ably, admirably, and affably evincing the crisis of fifteen year old Anna (also Lindsay Lohan).
Dreams are a window to the future, real or surreal - poet.
If it was a dream it was like no other,
soft, delicate, with silky feathers
the angel beckoned me to
an enchanting embrace.
I was tempted but
couldn’t break the shackles
of diamonds, gold, silver
and all the precious stones
put together.
They were not just priceless,
they were strung with
a mystical, gossamer thread.
I tried hard but the magical
chains were overpowering,
The angel came close
I could feel the fragrance
of heavenly musk
her breath redolent
with nectar and ambrosia.
She bloomed like a lotus,
face glowing like a sunflower,
something I could never
attribute to women
of this world.
My strength was of no match
against the unworldly magic
of the chains.
Proximity of the angel and her
intoxicating body scent
was driving me, transporting me
to a far-off land unlike
any I had seen.
My tired eyes gazed at the pink seas
and blue sands, woods a
pale carmine yellow, the birds of a
colour rainbow danced
in tune with the music
created by the rhythmic
frothy, cream-pink waterfall.
The sky was
of a deep crimson hue
as if a gargantuan had
been slayed and the
tapestry above stained
with ungrateful blood.
It was both surreal and
utterly believable
at the same time.
My legs were still
in shackles, and I
was resigned to the fate
of an eternal prisoner.
I thought of the angel
who had come so close
to me offering an embrace.
What was her motive?
Was she offering me the
Kiss of death?
Am I going to die, dying, or
Am I already dead?
Amidst the cacophony
of the animals and birds,
my auditory nerves were
transporting faint signals of
someone approaching.
The sound of the steps
muted by the soft sands,
the dull sounds were from
behind, I turned around.
The angel was close, but
this time there was no
musky fragrance, only
earthly smell.
She touched, a bolt
of lightning hit me
and I blacked out.
Not sure it was a dream,
if I ever wake up I’ll find out.