Long Board Poems

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


Puzzle Stomped

"Puzzle Stomped"



Pieces scattered
placed on a table 
with boundaries 

between 
the incarcerated margins 
there are strict conditions

Time drips 
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted 

imperfectly
perfect 
towards upwards 

new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication

behind her veil 
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses 

holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded 

the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to 
free the redressed vicissitudes 

to undress the crisp breeze of her 
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets

gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes

Somewhere, 
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle, 

cutting tall poppy
each step she takes 
towards her freedom gate

In his hands he cups
the hidden 
missing piece

The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep

along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime

their spelt magic 
grows majestically spoilt 
seeded from a sweet perfume 

conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged  
off all the slippery knaves 

and wax-sealed pages  
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings 

turn into suffocating 
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces

She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints 
for a new road home

He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song

the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance 
thundering over a stormy mind grows

patch worked with glassed-in 
jarred ghost bees, the old 
puzzle of a story stomped on

He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time 

Beyond takes her hand 
And sensually whispers 
along all her fairest fears 

sweeping all pieces off her 
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable 

forgotten 
left lacking 
on the harsh floor

Cum dederit 
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas 

to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung

the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon

Time for a new story
He says darkly 
and swiftly closes

Past’s door.


(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)


Revelations

Oh dear Muse, help me write this verse for thee
Give me the strength to write, and fulfill my destiny.

The lines and rimes that below will be read,
Come from the mind of a disturbed head.
A poet who will share a captivating tail,
And he hopes on this mission he won’t fail.

The story goes back in space and time: long ago,
In far away kingdom a newborn is about to show.
Little fragile boy showing his face to the world,
At least that how this poor poet’s heard.

Little William was his name of course until he grew,
Than William it became, but still “little” to a few.
As the years passed by William got much smarter
Than any man, and that’s why he left to go farther.
He left his village seeking the final, untainted truth:
“Why are we here, why does every man have a LIFE?”
He searched high and low, but still didn’t find a clue,
To his question. But someone can answer it… but whom?
Trying to figure out the truth he stumbled upon a cave.
Entering he found traces of a speech once home he gave.
Who was the strange admirer? Who’s home hath he found?
He suddenly felt a short breeze and slowly turned around.
He was rendered speechless by the sight he had to face,
It was himself, like in the mirror; he had seen his own face.
Stiff as a board he’d stare at his twin, searching a mismatch
But futile, none was found. “So you’ve made the big catch”
The fellow said, “Are you happy now? Or confused?”
For you see, it was indeed himself, who he had faced.
He, the twin was his soul’s other side, the wise one.
Once he understood, whiteout a breath the twin had gone.
Gone away, leaving William alone, but pondering,
He had noticed a piece of paper with some writing.
It was a speech he gave, a speech very long ago,
About his first true love, about passion and grace.
He understood, now a new challenge he would face.
His mission was to tell the world the secret, hidden
Truth: Love. Love is the answer he had been given.
So simple yet so complex, so easy than again intricate.
Knowing, that no one would accept love, only hate. 

Poor William could not cope with the burden so heavy,
So he rested his head, and slept for an entire eternity,
Leaving the people to wonder and continue searching,
Knowing, that they will never experience such a true feeling.

Sad story, but true, oh Muse I tell thee…
William was non other, than poor old me.
Form: Rhyme

The One That Got Away

"I love you"
These are the three ripe words that 
I wanted to whisper in your ears.
So, I
Fixed a date
You came
We met 
We spoke
But I couldn't propose:
Though tattooed on the tip of my tongue,
at my dismay it refrained to flow out.
Then,
I packed all my feelings and emotions in a box 
with a love letter clinched to it
and laid it on your desk.
Looking at the hourglass
Counted the time.
Zealously anticipating
for your arrival
But,
Unfortunately 
you were on sick leave.
Poor me
Carried the box
ran and hopped into a taxi.
Impatiently sitting, 
throughout the ride
yearning to meet you..
After reaching the destination
Carelessly forgetting the box,
restlessly I jumped down
Rushed to your flat
Found your name plate beside the door
Pressed on the calling bell
Faced your maid
With a fine clarification 
I stepped inside the hall
Not finding you
Confused I stood.
In a while,
Got to know
that you have been shifted 
to hospital;
Not knowing the address
and the exact location
I stumbled
Place to place..
In search of you
With a wrong information.
Cash had melted;
Looking my wallet
I sat on the street 
gaping at your photo,
that..I had stolen 
from your locker.
Hit suddenly an idea..
Thought of calling you
But,
In a hurry had left my
mobile on my table;
Recalling your number
I went to a telephone Booth
I tried and tried and tried..
With many failed attempts
I just heard the recorded voice
which repeatedly said:
"your call is not reachable"
My eye lids were twitching
prophesying something awful is to happen.
The clouds were shadowed by darkness;
And I returned back home
with a huge sigh;
Found my pillow 
Embraced ,
Cried my heart out,
Lay insomniac,
whole night
Thinking
Of YOU
I stay awake
Worrying,
What might have happened to you..!
The next day morning,
I found newspaper 
Headlines said:
"Airplane crashed due to turbulence"
Strange was to know..
Your name typed too..
under the missing passenger list.
Why such a shocking news ?!
Why the hell did he board the flight 
all in sudden with no clue?
Myself wriggled
On the floor..
Soul paralyzed
"Losing him"
~The Untold love~
The one who capriciously
got away from me
in a very 
short span 
of time.

3-7-2020
 
Second place in the contest.
Note:The one that got away poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Silent One.
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.

Housekeeping Not a Strong Suit With the Missus

(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)

Flush with rage the spouse will become allied
if reference made how she buzzfeeds disorder
altercation especially likely if divorce blurted
making me wish to experience (immediately)
bartered bride, when mine pointed finger doth
nonverbally chide markedly appalling untidy
predilection she blithely exhibits woeful scant
interest to maintain can-do spirit affecting plea

zing aesthetic humble abode ofttimes slacking
off cleaning trail of abomination, which talent
includes unwittingly cultivating qua primordial
soup possibly duplicating conditions when life
originated (bajillion years ago) on planet Earth
witnessed courtesy think gummy, groovy, gooey,
gloppy, (nippy, nap, noopy) protoplasmic slimy
oozing blob (starring Steve McQueen) amoeba

like swallowing small towns with names such as
Chester Springs, Downingtown, Phoenixville,
& Royersford hungering, hinting, and hankering
to hasten home hearing Harris harridan hooligan
hoopla conniption purportedly linked into order
issued courtesy board of health for hen pecking
wife to hustle & make house beautiful for Biden
(accompanied with hit parade) announcing (yea)

at long last Republican administration overhaul
which fête yours truly slated to host determined
(weeks ago), thus necessitating legally wedded
counterpart to apply elbow grease in tandem to
render spic & span where unsightly food scraps,
soiled clothes, scattered papers, et cetera strewn
helter skelter, the disarray the culmination of 4+
years occupying these digs in Schwenksville, Pa.

Upon being told "get the place in ship shape order"
she went ballistic like bupkis fired out me gluteus
maximus, (whereat I couldn't help but think ICBM)
yea, an incongruous thought as she rattled vitriolic,
colorful expletives coarse language enough would
make sailor blush shutting his yapper uttering before
he even uttered "shiver me timbers," hence clatter
and din created cacophonous noise as my fair lady

affected one woman siege warfare as pots and pans
flew pell mell thru air while I took refuge in fallout
shelter unused since total mortal kombat destroyed
major swath of webbed wide world, global debacle
our dear leader triggered (when in pensive mood) he
lobbed weapons of mass destruction after being axed
to "go back home" meaning his mother planet Uranus.

Humanoids

Humanoids …
Machine people, we have them at our disposal.
I envy these soul less creatures for they as Angels
do not feel any kind of pain.
Our robot, Ed Burkye is a French guy,
the machine person, although
I do not feel comfortable 
with strange person in my home,
rolling in my direction ready to serve.
Now, I will have to endure them in the spaceship.
Ethical as always, hopefully unable to kill.
With them, we will build democracy, 
where people are no longer subject
to the will of governments.
Every life counts, all galaxies struggle for life
to witness its beauty, smartness and force.
Nature must is existence.
Conscious machines, great abstracted –
in unconscious state they travel.
These machine people can travel
through millions of years to distant galaxies,
cloning themselves on the way,
some for pleasure, some for business.
They are naturalists, artists or sick with politics.
“No criteria for bacteria,”
and even in multitudes they must strive
to be better, to be greater without lust,
but with power and perfection beyond trust.
They are interrupted
by the communiqué from Celestial Command. 
The voice is heard as from the loud speaker.
Gentlemen do not forget,
our purpose is to colonize
with the broader one to expand
the torch of life to other Galaxies.
Conquest of the universe for all humanity, 
which of course we represent.
Here three of them: Boson, Raptus and Polonius
are about to board the rocket for liftoff to Mars.
Boson to Raptus and Polonius as they walk to the rocket:
Soon, inexplicable Mars, empty as barren Earthly Moon
and the space above us, cold and lonely, 
obscure place will be our home for long.
They entered the rocket.
After the door had closed,-
they took their positions.
Boson started the rocket engine,
allowing liquid hydrogen to enter it.
Fuel was ignited and clouds of smoke
forcefully burst outside.
Inside of the rocket was shaking with huge vibrations,
cosmonauts were sitting as on a volcano.
The rocket with tremendous force had been lifted 
and flew into space accelerating,
entering orbital spaceflight,
until it reached escape velocity
at about eleven kilometers per second.
There is no distinction between top and bottom 
and weightlessness presented challenges 
to their organisms:
cardio-vascular, inner ears’ pains, 
weakness of psyche and severe illusions…
Form: Verse


A Whiff of Canterbury Tails

85
 Feedback comes to those who apply and post and expect to receive the same 
when you place a silver dollar in your mouth you scratch it with your teeth to see if 
it is real a man bites down upon it and then looks and frowns or looks and 
smiles upon the quarter he has found not silver or even golden but just metal of 
some kind its zinc and copper mixes made in Betty Crocker's Kitchens. She has 
a tray of circles all lain out upon her divine divan the tails side up for luck she got 
this from the JESUS man who tossed his penny in an arc and tried to hit a mark 
a line drawn in the sand and made his feet go march to live a different plan a 
lifetime being mended his only love he found she makes the things he feels 
inside brand new. She stirs her better batter up with a long and spindly spatula 
she marks each coin with edges with the cheese garter greater. She takes the 
grater to the table and turns each coin by hand she makes four of them for every 
dollar in this land. They asked her who is on the image of the coin she laughed 
and dimpled smiling she said it must be Dollar Bill.  The George Washington 
Dollar is the image used for the quarter he gets to be on two. When yew become 
the President Of America you can be their two. She stamps the quartered dollars 
on the side that just says heads with the handy dandy stamper set she got from 
her Uncle Jed for Christmas Past. She turns the coins at last and makes the tails 
with her old eagle eye she uses her new leather set to scritch and scratch the 
bird the lines formed from habit of making millions in a set in just one day she 
filled the Island of Manhattan with 24 additional sets they said they needed them 
to buy Manhattan again the previous treaty had run out from the statue of 
limitations set back in Washington against the law must be obeyed by every 
man. When eye am making a bus ride and eye find a lot of pennies eye ignore 
them when eye find a quarter eye do a little more than dance in place eye jig eye 
jog eye trip on every log in my haste to find three more it costs one dollar just to 
Board the Tran. Betty declined to speak just to the press for she is very shy she 
said she knoes now who the image is on the flip side of her coin and eye did not 
keep a dry eye when she smiled at me and said without a tremor or a miss it is 
Washington, D. C.

The Odyssey Redux Part I - From Trozan Shores To Aeolian Isle

Now gather around, ye lusty lads, a tale I'll tell to thee
Of jealous Gods, monsters and ill-fated men who sailed the sea.
My tale is set in hoary times when fickle fate was by divine decree.
Then men were men who faced all odds, much sturdier than you or me.

It was the time when the Trozans fell, King Priam's pride was turned to dust,
Odysseus' ruse of Trozan Horse, made him of the God's accursed;
For Apollo's faith was crushed by heel of Grecian fleet,
And rape and pillage,  with lust and greed, was rampant on the street

But fair Odysseus, with wanton fill, mindful of the weep and wail
With his Grecian hordes and a dozen ships to Ithaca did set sail
With hope-filled heart, with fair Penelope and Telemachus in mind
His course to fair Ithaca was charted and  well and truly defined.

But fate, I did say, was  most fickle-minded, and had deviously contrived
A fate which would try their grit and test how they fought, and survived.
And so the ships driven willy-nilly by the North Westers and South Easters
Drove them by predetermined chance to the Land of the Lotus Eaters.

The Lotus Eaters were a race which the world forgot in their drugged state
With food of the Nelumbo, of a species time forgot, but did their hunger sate,
And drugged their minds to exclusion of world, to family, and other  cares.
Odysseus , abstinent was he,, dragged them back on board, with crew unawares.

Thence post-haste did the ships set sail and sighted fair isle with fatted cattle,
Fair game for stocking provisions, but first a Titan Cyclops they had to battle.
Odysseus, full of guile knew that force would lead to hapless naught,
So crept he in, midst cattle din, and  there sleeping Polyphemus sought.

And there as the Cyclops soundly slept, blinded his eye, which was but one.
Polyphemus, Titan,  unbeknownst to Odysseus, was Poseidon's beloved son.
With prideful boast Ithacan King, in derision his name did daringly decree.
Wild with rage, and dreadful pain, did Polyphemus call his father from the sea.

Deeply hurt at deceit and guile by which the Grecians blinded his offspring,
Poseidon  did curse and said, " May stormy seas and whirly winds calamity bring"
So tossed about were the dozen ships, windblown and tossed on heaving seas.
With heavy heart and tired limb went they to Aeolus, the Wind God there to please.

~11 Jun 2016~
Form: Epic

Premium Member Mountain Man

From Chicago to Tampa Bay in a Ford Granada some time in the mid- 70's. Unfortunately, we were not interested in mountains, because we took interstate 75 and drove through Tennessee 'at night'. We felt the elevation but never saw the Smoky Mountains.                                                              

As we proceeded south, our four year old kept asking, "Are we there yet?"                                                          Can you blame her?  We should have had at least one mountain story                                                                   to tell; and why did we not take time to enjoy the healthy smoke?                                                                   We arrived in Tampa by way of mostly 'flat lands'.                                                                                                                                             

On another occasion we drove from northern Mississippi to Atlanta.  While there, we not only viewed, but also trekked until we grew tired.  The visit on 'Stone Mountain' was a good one as we also enjoyed the beautiful water fall.                                                                                           

Fast forward to 1981, and find me driving a '79 chevy chevette from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe.  Oh, what a ride! From just above sea level to over 9,000 feet and the worst head ache of my life.  Our second child who was then four was on board, but he was head ache free. Nice sceneries, and mountains aplenty, but I should have had my head examined; not because                      of the elevation, but because I had the audacity to drive a Chevette.

Later in the early 80's with my entire family on board, I headed up another mountain in Marin County, Ca.  This time there was plenty of room and  power in an 8 cylinder full sized Chevy van. Just beyond the Golden Gate is Mt. Tamalpais, but we never reached the top, because my wife changed her mind.

My most recent mountain experience was a scenic view from a Jumbo Jet.  Returning from a vacation by way of Portland, I had a nice view of *Mt. St. Helen 36 years after the mountain blew its top in 1980. No, that does not make me a 'Mountain Man'; but from where I sit 30 feet above sea level, it is rather refreshing.
08052017PSContest, Mountains, Julie Rodeheaver
*Or Was it Mt. Hood?
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Ouija Board

The shifting of many corporeal hands move across this dead cell,
A vacuums vortex, a psychic sponge, charging this battery of
Energy called the spirit board.
Paranormal phenomenon striking plate to enter realities plane
Of existence, for the ethereal challenged in crisis, seeking the
Threshold for spontaneous release, unto our spiritual realm.
Witchery’s board of trickery left in a polarized stance it
So entices the living with its tempting whispering of lies,
Incantations gate keepers wait on the other side of evils
Door way.
Memorizing the human sensory functions into a false
Sense of harmless mystery of the unexplained, it lures
These victims ever closer to weaving its spell of the demonic.
These capture being lost unto the hypnotic effects are
Transfixed unable to hit their override switch that controls
Their mental powers of persuasion, disabled is there strength
Of will power, they belong to the Ouija now.
Clasping do all for sides of the curtain of reality, times
Displacement begins in earnest, without hesitations
Momentary loll this dead cell bursts to life.
Black magic key has been inserted within the wooden
Door way’s heart and soul, a bizarre power bank draws
Forth the energy of the spiritual lost, swinging hells
Kept wide open.
The pancetta spins out of control, smashing against
The barriers of humanity, darkened ebony light shines
Through this doorway of evil and the flickering candle
Turns to a shades greenish blue wavering in the odious
Breeze.
The voice of a thousand screams echo in sheer delight,
We have been freed at last, broken is the trance, the boards
Hypnotic effects are dashed by the light of the dawn.
Dazed in bewilderment the voyeurs are chilled to their
Very inward bones, shaking, staring in awes amazement,
Wondering if these events really happened at all.
Then within these tented walls a voice responds to their
Questioning, laughing, as if a jackal at a fresh kill site!
Foolish mortals you know not what you have done, this
Night, but I promise thee this, laughing once again,
In a demonic under tone, none shall leave this domicile
Alive.
The entry doors lock without the human touch, the
Curtain windows pull closed, a momentary stilled
Scream, then all is silent, what remains is left up
To my readers to visualize, as the final candle
Blows out!


BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Glass Half Full Glass Half Empty

Take a glass and fill it half full of water.
We have often heard by some the glass is half full,
by others the glass is half empty.
Now which is it half full or half empty?
It is both,
it is how you look at it.
Now that the world and maybe yourself have gone mad,
how are you seeing this glass?
Half full or half empty?


For the half full group let's take a deeper look.
As you get bored which is coming,
what shall I do?
Clean out the basement, attic or garage?
You say, I don't have a basement, attic or garage.
Great, I know you have a closet or two and many drawers.
We may find things we have been looking for,
We may find things we forgot we had,
We may find things we need to be using,
We may find things we can give away,
We may find things that are a surprise to us.


For the half full group let's take an even deeper look.
We may want to find those old board games and dust them off,
put away the computer and TV games.
We may want to find those old books and dust them off,
remember what it was like to feel and read a book.
We may want to find someone in your home to just sit and talk with.
If living alone then pick up a pen and write a long note to each person you know.
Do your Christmas cards with a special note inside,
be productive with the down time and life you have been given.


For the half empty group let's take a deeper look.
Guess you can sit around and watch TV until you go insane,
scream and holler until no one will listen to you,
have nothing to show for the wasted time and life you have just lived.


For the half empty group let's take an even deeper look.
Will you make yourself sick over this,
Will you walk the floor and not sleep,
Will you come out of the other side when it is all over.


Yes it will all be over one day.
How will you come out of the other side?
May I suggest you have one very special book,
I know you must have this very special book on a dust filled shelf or in a box somewhere.
If you truly do not own this very special book then go online.
What very special book is this you ask,
the bible which has all of the answers to all of the questions you are now asking.
Maybe, just maybe, after reading this very special book for all the lonely days and nights, people will continue to read this very special book for the rest of their lives.

Date Written 3/19/2020
Form: Narrative

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