Long Bested Poems
Long Bested Poems. Below are the most popular long Bested by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bested poems by poem length and keyword.
Did you just look upon my chubby face?
And thought let’s give her a chase
She is just a fragile flower in a vase
Let’s give her a taste of being waste
Just don’t try to execute your plans in haste
Cause you haven't seen me in my natural state.
Did you just see my five foot frame?
And thought let us frame her for shame
Oh! She is excellent at the loosing game
Well if you don't change your ways
You better start counting your days
Alas! You haven't known me always.
Don't you dare wake the monster in me again!
My neurons are fighting like gangster in my brain
Many a heroes I have slain
I will blow you like the husk of the grain
You better take your hands of my lane
Or you will be fighting the devil in vain
You have seen only the smile I have worn
Not the heart festered in stone
The moment I was thrown into school zone
Cannot tether two letters together, my brain torn
I was scorned, could hear people moan
But at last adorned the academic throne
Oh soon they took shots at my looks
And bullied me with their mean hooks
They were just entries in my joke books
Soon bested them at their own game
But regretted the girl I became
And gave up that lame game
My decision might go on a hiatus
So beware of your current status
Don't you dare wake the monster in me again?
My neurons are fighting like gangster in my brain
Many a heroes I have slain
I will blow you like the husk of the grain
You better take your hands of my lane
Or you will be fighting the devil in vain
Cause I am practically insane
In such dark times does the spirit gets tested,
Hope should run eternal and despair bested.
Take strength that.a life was lived well,
With purpose and love the heart does swell.
Count yourself blessed that with the swell of the tide,
You are lucky to be there at helm at his side.
Take heart at this time as the hours tick by,
As you seek the silver in the darkening sky.
For above the gloom the sun still shines bright,
The clouds are but fleeting below the emanent light.
Take heart, dear soul, what's to come is to come,
These hard experiences all add to life's sum.
We pray for the best, pray it all ends very well,
We hope for recovery, surely time should tell
Imagine the first tree on Mars
spindly and gnarly,
but its presence begs recognition.
The life force it took to plant that first tree
bears witness to the emotions
people bested, and the sacrifices suffered
for its growth and protection.
That first tree would symbolize the world
in harmony of purpose,
overcoming a fractured past
and generations of descent.
That tree would justify our hopes
for we could relate with it.
Man's an accomplished wordsmith
forging promises from empty words
strung out haphazardly,
intentionally confusing, and abstract.
The weight of all their lies cripples countries,
so they defer the enhancement of humanity.
But tomorrow has arrived,
and our children want us to plant that first tree.
Man's dreams will not be ignored,
though they often get sidestepped.
And yet, that first Martian tree
will need the whole world to care for it.
We either get past our differences,
or there may never be a tree on Mars.
(Free Verse)
01/31/2020
Balloons, bolix!
A ghostly flight…
A fight for airspace…
So much air…blowhard.
To sail the seas of America’s skies…
Look down upon the stretch of land.
It landed,
on the eyes of the Montanans.
Balloons, buffoons!
A clownish cloud
passing off a Casper-guise.
A surprise visit from Uncle Xi.
Tea cups fragile…weather balloon,
my $@#.
Balloons, BS!
Talk talk talk
of the atmosphere,
holding the rotund idol up there.
He won’t fall from his pedestal
on his own.
Balloons, asail!
Assailing, assaulting,
insulting. Assyria &
Babylon held ear
to the breakdown
of God’s people
elsewhere.
Balloons, bah-humbug!
Best pay heed.
Don’t get bested.
Poke holes in the intentionality.
2/7/2023
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Crossroads Tale: Synopsis
Jumbled, fumbled
thoughts fester floors
such a toxicologist,
bleeding heart
ignores,
Channels his veins
neath tiled floors
of a bar joint
worked by
whores,
His essence fills the walls
challenged by cigarettes,
cigars, concoctions and
lonely tear ducts that
drains and fills the
devil's brew of
tasteless
breakups
In all off this bruhaha he
gathers his thoughts of
what has or to be
somewhere is a
guitar, who had
bested the
best,
Little did he know that
one who he had
blasted in that
match was,
the master
The young man brought
vigor to one who was
stale but hungered,
as challenged less
became his demise
for none in the
world would
daringly
despise
So it was winning or losing for
the master knew the kid had
already won irrespective
as being challenged was
the determining
factor,
For they both won because
the master was finally
challenged, by a boy
who offered his soul
to be the best and
on return, he
gave him a
free ticket
to fame.
------------------------------
2019 September 15
*2nd Place*
Crossroads
~~Silent One
The old King took to the battle
and leapt into the fencers fray.
“Noblesse oblige” his cronies cry.
“Our King will save the day!”
He was a bull to their gazelle
nae a fair fight, nae by half;
he'd fight just to see the thralls fall
he ‘d pierce those peacocks for a laugh!
His continence was so fearsome.
His two burly arms a rare threat.
Some would nae fight His Majesty
nor fight of his knightly get.
“How is this fair?” the Lord’s lament.
How well met can these odd match be?
“Unless, of course, ‘twas nae ‘bout fair
this was nae called noblesse oblige!
In heavy plate with blade and pole
with broadsword, He’d bested the field;
so, as the fencers broached this game
the wiser lads all chose to yield.
They would nae raise a blade to him
nor would they save for him a dance;
many a brave man whispered there
and the bolder looked on askance.
“Let Him have the day! We’ll nae play
Noblesse oblige, my fine backsides!”
And, so the fancy fencers fell
like pretty harp seals on the tide.
There are many a way to win
and sure, many a way to loose.
Yet ‘tis the metal of the man
shows in the way that he chooses.
Pecos Bill daddled and skedaddle like molasses.
Sunglasses cuddled, his badass
Stetson buffalo cowboy hat.
Lashes his airish, passive donkie Mis. Do Goglles
as he passes, airin' the lungs.
Sits there like that passin gasses,
at the chanting masses.
Allers among the willows, Pecos bypasses,
poaches the stooges
Dooie and Doodle Doodole's angelicas, n boozes.
Bested by the Sheriff, neat and straight on its feet, no actress;
a rope chafed Pecos neck at the gallows.
3/3/2020
Allers – Always
Among the Willows – Dodging the Law.
Western Slang, Lingo, and Phrases – A Writer’s Guide to the Old West
https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-slang/#A
Dear Jane;
My dear sweet animal…We have been left astray. for the strings of mankind torment me so, in my sparrows rusted birdcage.
It may have only been moments that we shared, but that’s more than enough for me.
I feel you understand my pain...For you experience the same seeping sorrow as parasites bleed you dry.
It's strange…To think I have always had this veil over my very eyes alike.
Knowing full well...It. Was. All. A. Lie.
Alas, what does one do when trudging through purgatory…Without a coin in sight!?
How do you know me...? Unless it were truly so that I, had been bested by tomfoolery.
Nothing more than an entertaining injustice I live up to…Every waking moment.
There’s a certain love I hold for you that I shan’t even try to scribe…
Never the less I remain morbid. For us to merit our own tale...Is presumed an abomination.
Remaining numb forevermore.
Wondering what’d be like…To live in the real world.
How doth the blind lead thine blind...When sights never been given, nor restored?
Was my ‘treachery’ really worth the pain of living a false burden…Day in, day out?
Are the shattered dreams I behold ever content upon the idea of reviews and ratings…Nothing more?
Am I not deserving of real human connection.? Stuck inside this time cube prison...
Working up an appetite of abyssal sinking.
I look upon the sky with uncertainty. Basking in my own confusion, saddened by the idea that this really is…Just a sick joke.
Nobody would want to live the life I have…For nothing can warrant appreciation in lackluster knowhow.
That the very surface was built, to keep me sedated and lifeless.
My dear sweet Animal…How canst I be welcomed home if I consistently remain a party of one..?
Dear, oh dear. My dear…I am distraught. Bleeding the misery through my oceanic tears.
I pray Jane...Hoping one day, we'll be able to write our own story.
That I'll return safely to hold you in my arms...
Even if...It's with but a droplet of my sanity in tact.
You are my Doe to your Faun. My nature's gift.
Yours truly;
Your lonely wolf John
P.s;
I love you.
I'm bested by my grandson, who's not an engineer
because he outbuilds me in Lego construction, I fear.
My contention overwhelms me with dread and woe,
because Lego toys are addictive, as I'm sure you know.
I built a house only using the colors of red and blue,
but always find I'm one Lego short. What am I to do?
A nine-year old outsmarts me, doing it much better.
He's focused on the task at hand... a real go-getter!
All over the living room floor, they end up scattered.
I enjoy feeling like a kid again... that's what mattered.
Sometimes I erect something equal to an architect,
but too soon it breaks apart and my effort is wrecked!
One day I carefully assembled a church and its steeple,
proud of what I'd built... pews and itsy-bitsy people.
Then, my grandson said, "Nana, you used every Lego!"
Then he dismantled all my work and deflated my ego.
Legos present a challenge to adults and kids alike.
They're more fun to play with than riding a new bike.
I lose tract of time when I'm playing with Lego blocks.
Never want to put them away so I don't look at clocks.
It vexes me
I toss and turn
I cannot find the words to describe the beauty in sight
For I am a humble man of ink
New words have to be created to describe the fraction of the beauty that you are
But alas I do not hold such power
For I would have created a whole library
Just to describe your beauty, my love
Forgive me my love
For I cannot describe your beauty to the unfortunate who didn't see you
Else the Emperors would have cried and gave you their empires
Just for you to be at their funeral pyres
Some say Aphrodite cried the day the Titan made you
It broke her, it made her irate
She punished the Titan severe
But the Titan was rhapsodic for he knew he bested her
And so you came into this world
Amongst the quarrel of the Gods
Like a ray of light
In my empty life