Long Bode Poems
Long Bode Poems. Below are the most popular long Bode by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bode poems by poem length and keyword.
Nothing in my life has ever been anything like this.
When I started my company it was nothing but bliss.
I invented a company called “The Edit Centre”
Back in ’86, I was quite the inventor.
The business model was to transfer movie film and edit videos
So family memories would last forever, don’t you know.
From the day business opened we on a roll
People came from far and wide, it soothed my soul.
From $30,000 we grossed the very first year,
To 60 then 90, I had no fear.
I bought $1000’s and $1000’s of video toys,
The public loved it, so they could enjoy.
The growth in the business lasted about 13 years.
We peaked at $427,000.00, I still had no fear.
Slowly but slowly, things began to erode.
I knew not what the future would bode.
So I did what many major companies have done
I fired employees, sent them on the run.
I ended up doing more of the work on my own
And in 2006 I made more money than I’d ever known.
My accountant was pleased, said I finally learned how to make money.
Even though I was grossing far less, I was making a tonny.
The bank told me my house had great value, have this wad of cash.
So I began to remodel, was having a blast.
So I borrowed a quarter million to fix up the place
Created a palace, the times seemed to be great.
I was paying $3000.00 a month on the equity line.
Felt what I was doing was not out of line.
Then came 2007, well before the economy collapsed.
Sales dropped $75,000, what kind of relapse?
What was I doing that was so wrong?
I began living in a world I didn’t belong.
Technology was beginning to alter my life.
The market I owned was cut like a knife.
Fewer and fewer needed the services I provided.
Since 2008, I’ve been highly misguided.
But I was stubborn, said this couldn’t continue.
Took all of my savings to save the only thing I knew.
Owned a beautiful building on a main thoroughfare.
Spent every dime to save it, I didn’t care.
But business continued to get worse and worse
I vowed to survive, could I be cursed?
I remodeled the building and opened an art gallery
Thinking with no inventory costs, I might make a salary.
Of course my gallery couldn’t have been more mistimed.
Who in 2009 had the reason to spend another dime.
The upside was that the building had a facelift.
And I was able to sell it, that was a gift.
Snow showers earlier today December 9th, 2020 yielded negligible accumulation
Though anyone who saw
and/or watched local news would be more wise
the brief flurry of crystalline precipitation
came as a complete surprise,
cuz yours truly prefers
getting strangled courtesy neckties
versus being given spoiler alert
subsequently forced to give reciprocal highfives.
I generally skirt tracking the weather,
nevertheless the missus would pantomime,
née blurts out with glee
meteorological conditions occurring here
out the skies above second Street
within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
No rhyme nor reason prevails
necessitating yours truly to hear and/or see
what mother nature doth hold in store
concerning (Delaware, Chester,
and Montgomery) tri county locale
sometimes loosely referred to
as comprising Delaware Valley
a geographical area coterminous with
metropolitan statistical area (MSA)
and broader combined statistical area (CSA),
and composed of counties located in
Southeastern Pennsylvania, South Jersey,
Delaware, and the Eastern Shore of Maryland.
As a lifetime resident - 19473 zip code
regarding aforementioned place name,
I can ofttimes intimate
how the forecast will bode
especially if adequate hours spent outdoors,
more so when yours truly
lived at 3224 Level Road
which less likely as ole man winter
huffs and puffs with braggadocio
rarely ripping, riffing, and riding
piggyback with nor'easter.
Interestingly enough global warming
affected dramatic climate change
during course of mine lifetime,
where Currier and Ives rural
linkedin with good n plenti grange,
where agrarian lifestyle might seem strange
to urban outfitters constituting population.
Truth be told, I fondly remember those days of yore
when countless unbroken acres of greenery
whereat in Arcola a cider mill vestige
of American/British Revolutionary War
perhaps e'en centuries before frequented by troubadour
named Shakespeare, quite sad
to narrate hundreds of years postwar
(meaning that brouhaha incorporating
Declaration of Independence)
long since derelict and sold
possibly by family with surname Knorr,
(methinks his first name Ignoramus nickname Ig)
who strongly exhibited demeanor of Eeyore.
Firstly, skies grew dark, whilst the winds grew strong,
this ominous progression, showed it would not be long
before towering clouds released their thunderous load
of torrential rain, on the land below. Though rain bode
well for much needed relief, they held great danger too,
for a lengthy deluge lasting hours, which might ensue,
could flood the low lying regions, when the dry soil,
baked hard from weeks of drought, would likely foil
the penetration of water to the parched depths below,
where roots wither unseen. Essential for plants to grow,
they’d wait in vain for relief, when heavy cool rains
racing pell mell to the lower reaches of flood plains:
sweep all before their gathered cascading might!
Although rain is needed, it is never a welcome sight
to see it fall heavily, then race away in unseemly haste.
Though desperately essential, it is a diabolical waste,
and further devastates the already stressed, parched land!
Of late Mother Nature shows she wants us to understand
global warming effects are a result of man’s thoughtlessness,
and this is why we see extremes of weather related distress,
manifested all around the globe, as severe rampaging storms,
replace once benign weather systems, accepted as norms.
Lately however, we’ve been fortunate inasmuch as the rain
from damaging storms has passed us by, and we gain
satisfaction, whilst our garden, over which we’ve slaved,
will reach its full potential, with our distressed plants saved,
from the effects of several windy days and oppressive heat.
From life giving rain, which fell:, our day is complete:
with our brown landscape becoming refreshed and green;
changed from the recent dull, ochre brown that has been
our lot. Due to changes in our weather patterns of late,
the welcome rain coming as it did, has changed the state
of our land in a way that is seen by many as a miracle.
Although this transformation is natural, for this spectacle
we give thanks, hoping nature forgives our ignorance
if we contain our natural greedy ways and exuberance.
Should we show firm resolve, to change our ways,
then she in turn may ensure we enjoy our future days.
Rhymer. Aug 5th, 2016.
Superstition! that horrid incubus which dwelt in darkness, shunning the light, with all its racks, and poison chalices, and foul sleeping draughts, is passing away without return. Religion cannot pass away. By Thomas Carlyle
Incubus weaves a titillating tale.
Swathed in a velvet flame that stirs the soul.
Trembling and relieved, I sought trial,
In the little death of the cyanide hole.
I dip my toes deeper into the sand
The ocean feels akin to a million diamonds.
Clad in azure plaid, I lie a breeze in my hand
I have the sense to fall in love with this island.
Epoch is similar to a roller coaster.
Yet I'm not tied down properly.
Perhaps I shouldn't proceed any faster.
My hands are busy with the air around me.
Sporadically I worry over the future
I wonder how much fear I have allowed.
Struggled to maintain, came up to bode suture
That seems to be the marvel among the crowd.
But now, I've attempted to understand
I must be the one controlling the wheel.
Whatever the future holds, steadfast stand.
Without trepidation, all triumphs might feel.
I'll be here no matter what happens tomorrow
I shall thus desist from being a layer of the hive.
It proves to be the root of my shared sorrow.
Will I favor water over wine yet still be safe to drive?
Were we given to a succubus or an incubus?
Stars veiled by a few straws will soon appear.
The final site has incubus tombs or mage insipidus.
It cast a dark shade across the earth and is near.
I'll be there no matter what happens tomorrow
In the midst of anguish, that would compel.
I'll be there no matter what happens tomorrow.
With eyes and arms, a soul never hurts to love well.
Let us adore ourselves before it becomes a crime.
The white moon is caressingly rising in a blue sight.
How acute a day, relies on how well you are sublime.
This story makes my future appear so bright.
1st place contest winner
Written: March 07, 2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 35 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
A comment such as "He looked right through me" portrays a person who's not in a positive light relative to the veiwer. It's indicative of a reality that does not bode well for the person being observed because such a statement portrays a lack of respect. Every person needs to be respected, and eye contact is a great start toward achieving such an objective.
If tunnel vision is a lesser to be desired point of veiw, then certainly eagle vision is to be the most coveted of all, in as much as an eagle can spot a mouse two miles away. Why, if I had the eyes of an eagle, I would be able to see an ant from five stories high.*
Within certain perimeters, we have the ability both to see things we are not looking at and to target that which we desire. Sometimes it is difficult to see the trees because of the forest. However, if we really desire to see the tree, we must pause, slow down, or even stop for a close-up and targeted veiw of the tree.
It's been said that the devil is in the details, but remember also that the details might also reveal angels unawares or in disquise. So let's beware, bewise, and utilize both our tunnel and peripheral vision lest we deprive ourselves of something to be desired.
In our cyber spaced world of social media, we may have lots of 'likes' and 'followers', but do they have tunnel visions of you? Are they looking straight through you? Are they looking in your direction but does not really see you? Realistically, do they really have any idea of who you are? Anyway, I am all mused out in this dim-lighted tunnel which I must now exit and pause, because both my eyes and brain need a break.
04272018PS *Wikipedia
We heard her before we saw her not because she was loud but because she was close,
she anchored herself making her presence felt; we paid the cashier and were about to leave
with our easy day shopping. She asks the man behind the counter if there was a vacancy at
this convenience supermarket (how modest are these retailers compared with their uber
shop assistants) that elsewhere 'let her and others go', as though a treat like a parent
telling a teen, 'OK you can go to the gig'. We turned. We knew her. She was short in
stature but long in confidence. The counter man boss countered in politely, pleasantly, that
he would if he could, when we intervened saying that we would recommend her
employment - thinking that as customers, as shareholders - that employers give a toss!
Ah the necklace! That's the difference, a sign of confidence, of individuality too; or what the
hell until I'm employed again, 'I'm free!' of the clock, under the bosses under pressure,
mates who are not so matey after all, of the tedium of the job classified by the uber
class 'unskilled'. Have you ever come across a job without any skill?!
The necklace, a symbol of her and ours encirclement by the cash nexus by whichever
system of obtaining our daily bread in today's world the least worst that has been devised-
yet - so fulfilling in so many ways: going home well satisfied with bringing the goodies
home to our families, to be well satisfied with the day's work or to moan because it has
been a damned dog day like yesterday as tomorrow will be, but keeping poverty at bay.
In these isles never have so many been in work (even if in a part -time, poorly paid, non
unionised world should shock Walesa) but to anyone on the Dole willing and able to work,
unemployment is a 100%.
May her necklace beads bode well for work for this hard working woman!
May her necklace beads bode well for this hard working woman moan
Fast as an atomic banshee, he roils sacred halls
of White House clutches levers with brass balls
American powers remain unrestrained when he calls
Armada to exorcise imagine aery dragons,
he inarticulately falls
non-communicative, faux eruditely generative,
and heartily galls
toward this introspective kickstarter male,
and most likely others he appalls.
-------------------------------------------------
My inner guru hankers to share voice
amidst increasing din
and clamors in reaction to insidious machinations fin
hushed via Machiavellian offal prince,
who unleashes clout with Cheshire grin
unconcerned about population, chaste,
from their wells Fargo wing.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Most every citizen banker, and kin
stared down vis a vis fierce-some intimations
catapult escalating, spin
laughing at rigged voting outlook
gratefully inflicts populace with monstrous win
doomsday soldiers -
art of the deal book not writ by said urchin.
-------------------------------------------------
Though regularly affiliated with top notch
kudos to virtual soapbox platform
re: all poetry to express Bing averse
toward ill feted Barron settlement
of United States government tossed like scotch
on thar hocks, thus an uneasy angst
also invisibly grabs me by the crotch
cuz das Trump power monger,
I fear rubric of democracy, he will botch!
-------------------------------------------------
This poem alternately titled -
harbinger of political debacle wolf find antipode
where toxic brew at crack of 12 a.m.
January 20th 2017 doth bode
doctored pregnant swollen tidal anarchistic military toad
deeds sheepishly shape into battalions
in tandem - fraternal order of police erode
Civilian protesters unite with ordinary citizen bankers
crowdsource sing metallic ca clash to goad
Form:
"American Grafitti" took me back again to High School in the 1960's
"Back to the Future's" nifty hot rod took me back in time and almost left me!
"City Slickers" took me way out west, to rustle cows and ride a horse
"Da Vinci's" code, did not bode well, the Vatican did not endorse!
"E. T. " turned out to be my friend, we peddled bikes far past the moon
"Forrest Gump" shared my lunch, and shared his chocolate just past noon
"Groundhog Day" is darn confusing, is it Monday or is it Tuesday?
"Hannibal" is one cruel dude,..........he sharpens teeth so he can chew me!!
"I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry" invited me to toast their wedding
"Jaws" invited me to take a swim! Those who did, were soon regretting!
"King Kong", was one poor ape who climbed too high for past mistakes,
"Lincoln" had too much at stake, but ended war between the states
"Mummy 1" and "Mummy 2" made me cry for Mommy,...PLEASE!
"No Country for Old Men"...but young dudes look, and want to leave!
"O' Brother Where Are Thou?" escaped their chains to play like Ringo
"Psycho's" bathtubs scare me silly, my next motel will be Flamingo's
"Quarantine" because I'm sick? If I stay in bed, they call me lazy
"Rosemary's Baby"...yikes that kid? Babysit....?? Are you crazy?
"Superman" claimed that he could help me, but flew away with no advice
"Titanic" hit a piece of ice, (that Superman was not so nice!)
"Unforgiven" (now is Superman)...Clint Eastwood is the slicker guy
"Valkyrie"'s plot has thickened...Let's all poke Hitler in the eye!
"When Harry Met Sally" I was jealous....her cafe' scene has made me blush
Xanadu had me roller skating.......racing faster, while I'm dating
"Young Sherlock Holmes" was just a kid, I kid you not, he met his Watson
"Zoolander" 's slacks were Cuban made.. I borrowed some and they were awesome!
(and I'm exhausted!)
______________________________________________
For Cyndi's exhausting ABC contest!! Whew!
On the sixteenth of May, you wore white — I wore black.
It was warm, we felt pleased and we smooched with a smack.
All four parents had come. We would reap what we sowed.
It felt right. It felt good. But behold — it just snowed!
In the hope of mid-May, we made plans with no doubt.
I’ll do this — you’ll do that. Should have googled our route....
Both your sisters showed up. All bode well — well it bode.
What a car we would drive! But it suddenly snowed!
On the lawn, in the sun, we meandered and mused.
What a house we would build! We were brightly enthused.
And that evening the guests brought of presents a load.
We unwrapped — oohed and aahed. Yet the darn thing just snowed!
Was the pastry to taste? ’Twas a fav'rite of mine.
It was French. It pleased all — both the rough and the fine.
Every bud squirmed with joy, and it clearly showed
as we drank and we yacked on the day when it snowed!
We were set to drive on — from point S to point E.
It’s a cinch in mid-May! Who would dare disagree?
I went ‘vroom!' You went ‘go!’ All the luggage was stowed.
But the sky hid its face for the world had snowed.
Many Mays may have passed, and we’ve seen this and that.
We have lost and amassed. And we should have grown fat.
We have grown, to be fair, and we’re still on the road
from point S to point E back in May when it snowed.
We keep vrooming along, and by now we have learned
how to turn up the heat and then eat what we’ve earned.
Warm it is in the car; far — our distant abode.
Thus we mosey in peace — even if... it has snowed.
I can’t say any sooths; I won’t read leaves or guts.
Most predictions are bunk — there are few ifs or buts.
All we plan will come true... or it won't — no one knows.
But I do know one thing — May’s the month when it snows.
Listen to my tale of two lovers that ventured forth,_From two waring peoples for up in the north.__O now Littlefire was the daughter of the chief,_And she knew to tell her father of her love would just bring him grief.__Now Icefox was a noted warrior with stealth knowing and pride,_But his love for Littlefire he knew he just couldn't hide.__Now on a cold clear night they ventured forth to a place they were to meet,_A little house of ice their own small retreat.__But a vindictive soul fallowed and hurried back to the people to tell,_Oh and for the lovers this didn't bode well.__Oh untill it was to late they never heard a sound,_And there in each others arms the two lovers were found.__Now the chief's met to give punishment for what the two lovers did,_Oh the shame to their families was something that could not be easily hid.__So sentanced by the chief's death would be the price,_Their living hearts cut from there chests and togather barried deep with in the ice.__O but you can't kill passions flame or put out the fire of love,_Now the beauty of their hearts still burns in the night time skies above.Now if you don't belive my tale then you should venture forth,_Look into the skies up in the north,_And when there love is shining bright on cold clear nights._You will see what we call the great Northern Lights.__Oh Native people call it Icefire in the north But for their people that watched them die,_It will ever be known of as Littlefire loving Icefox in the sky.__So ends my tale of two lovers that paid the ultamit prece,_But the fire of their love will alway reflect in the night time sky from deep with in the ice.