Long Booklet Poems
Long Booklet Poems. Below are the most popular long Booklet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Booklet poems by poem length and keyword.
It's relatively a slow process.
A thought builds upon anticipation.
Thanks to the nostalgia ingrained by Disney.
Musically the songs are different.
Granted the press of a thumb.
Spotify, Pandora.
An assortment of different streams all profoundly deep.
Separately, the adaptation is the same.
Boy meets girl.
Eyes go on vacation.
Suddenly we're dressed in leisure.
Beautiful sights ingested by the brochures of a hotel lobby.
Just yesterday none of this seemed possible.
Everything crowed into the bends of a folded booklet.
Lost in the sensation of influential taste.
This was my outlook.
A yesterday morning spent in the hotel lobby of my own interest.
I am in sense booking my own fear.
This slow process that begins it's advance.
A millennium that begins a couple seconds past twelve.
She was the art visually spread across the brochure.
With arms wide open I fell in.
Speeding up this process ever slightly.
I still a consumer at best.
Her being the best vacation I ever been.
I am in sense booking my own fear.
Her love.
Further more exploring the secret of her parenthesis
Tucked away and never been seen for half a decade and more, a box that brings to the fore memories galore.
Been six years you passed away, since then I haven't been able to find in anyone a real friend.
Everything that reminded me of you I pushed inside a box, mad at you for leaving me behind to grieve your death.
Recollection of the blissful moments of our friendship made me miserable, how I wish I had a forewarning of your betrayal.
The tear-soaked pillows and my stifled whimpers have wiped away any bitterness there was, all that remains now is pain and an inexplicable emptiness.
With shaky fingers I open the cardboard box, peering at me from within is a red little teddy, on it's bib the image of a fox. One of the gifts you gave me each year on my birthday, I sit here clutching this small tiny thing amazed at how without so much as a word from you how six long years have gone away.
Rummaging through several Archies cards and a booklet of quotes on friendship my gaze lingers a little longer on the lines highlighted by you. I never really bothered to read them then but today my eyes glisten while I do.
At the bottom is a stack of letters you wrote to me while you were ill, the rosiness of my romantic world had made me so impatient I had not read them full.
Your passing away shook me up and on my soul left a big dint, but now when I read between the lines I realize you had given me a hint.
Maybe it was me , who in my love for you refused to believe that even angels die in order to find their peace!
With the romantic period over, a girl sits squatted on the floor with her agonies, in front of her lies open a box full of memories!
With evening comes melancholy , barefoot and unannounced ; cloaked in a reddish yellow tinge of dawn. It snatches away all mirth and stares at you while you sulk and frown.
Permeating your heart , like in winters through the trees you see the mist seep , until from every corner of your mind the old memories creep.
It keeps record of everything you best thought to forget , opening one after another like chapters in a booklet.
Bringing you the best ones first , the moments that make you smile with joy ; not knowing it's your enemy in guise you give in to it's deceitful ploy.
And soon it makes you realize that the people you love have gone , you can see them no more. You tell everybody how they still carry on living in your heart while in truth there is nothing but a sore.
The ones who are living are not the same anymore ; unfortunately the moments spent with them are etched in your heart like an old folklore.
STEPS ASIDE
They’ve banned the “step counters”
Outlawed the treadmill and stationary bike
Banned jogging (aka fast walking for the elderly)
Sports will be limited to “non-aerobic” activities
Tiddlywinks tournaments will be Government funded.
Scientific research and investigation
Funded by the “stay inside and die sooner” chapter
Of the “Governmental Gottcha Groups”
Has conjectural and anecdotal evidence
That the heavy breathing induced by exercise
Increases the carbon dioxide emissions
Of those engaged in anaerobic exercise.
Suggested alternate activities are:
-Daydreaming,
-Scheming (aka conspiring with imaginary friends)
-Meditation…without chanting
-Astral Traveling (with or without passport)
-Thinking, but only about the things presented in our booklet
-(also known as “Talking Points)
Or the “Rip Van Winkle” solution…
Go to sleep for twenty years
and hope it’s all over when you wake up.
John G. Lawless
©2/24/2023
390.
The 2 Kinds of Angels
God, a spirit so mighty
Once upon a time felt lonely
So He created for Him companions
Who will accompany Him in His dominions
Angels they are known to be
Also wise, powerful & holy
Yet, many of these sacred creations
Had for them wicked aspirations
So they were thrown to the burning sea
To suffer for all eternity
There bad angels became Satanic minions
Their job is to oppose God & bring abominations
But the good angels are always ready
To safeguard the sovereign of the Almighty!
-11/04/2015
(Dumarao)
*4th Daily Reflection from Catechism Booklet
I sat ready to take the Entrance Exam
Determined to give it my very best shot
Hoping my answers would get me in
But worried that they may not
I looked around at the others in the room
Already deeply buried in the text
Some quickly scribbling their answers down
While others seemed terribly vexed
One tester yelled, “This isn’t fair”
“These aren’t the questions I studied for!”
I saw two others tear the test in half
And fall crying on the floor
Cheaters caught looking at another’s exam
Where quickly escorted out
I was ready to open my test booklet
Suddenly filled with horrible doubt
I know I got the first question right
“What is your name?”, is all that it read
But I wasn’t prepared for the second one
“When was it that they found you dead?”
I knew then just what this exam was for
And what place I was testing to get in
I took a deep breath, prepared for the worse
And turned the next page to begin
There were no questions about what is in the bible
Or how often to church I went
There were no questions regarding any religion at all
Or how my Sundays I had spent
There were no questions about the Ten Commandments
Or about using God’s name in vain
There were no questions regarding prayers that were said
And no dogma for me to explain
There was just one question in the middle of the page
Answer it truthfully, I knew that I should
I reread that question about twenty times,
“Did you do all the good that you could?”
Suddenly I was awakened by a beeping sound
And a doctor saying, “We’ve got him back”
The Entrance Exam I will have to retake
Because I didn’t die from that heart attack
But now that I had a look at that test
I know what I need to do to be better prepared
So the next time I sit in the Examiner’s room
I can write about all of the people for which I had cared
It’s now dawn and the sky is ocean blue
Bringing to mind a poet who is so true
Writing with pen and ink in every round
With a Christmas name as Carol Brown
Around the corner moving in a rush
Teaching away with her poetic thrust
There in the flakes was Tamiviolet
Words flowing like a story booklet
On a platform was Vince Suzadail
Being hailed by many for setting a trail
Out came the sun with Jean Marchese
Painting picture so cool and breezy
Feet getting weary there was Karen O’Leary
So cheery while reciting a poetic theory
Wearing fancy socks was James Baylock
Standing on a rock just teaching his flock
Heading home for warmth of the fireplace
Thinking of the next journey I will face
Do I hear jingles and slay bells in the air?
Oh my, it’s my friend Santa we are a pair!
Merry Christmas!
Comments: I was tagged by Kathy, and as a result I have to pass the tag along.
I have randomly tagged the first six poets in my head. I really enjoy reading their
poetry. Now, they can tag other poets they enjoy reading. Have a great day!
From a small town in Georgia,
a place called Livonia,
came "Little Miss Dynamite".
A diminutive delight,
and a success overnight,
at only twelve years of age,
she was a musical rage.
She was Brenda Mae Tarpley.
Early popularity,
gaining notoriety
from the Ozark Jubilee,
she was found by Red Foley.
A young teenage prodigy,
her producer Owen Bradley
changed her name to Brenda Lee.
Before the age of twenty,
success came so easily.
"Sweet Nothin's" and "I'm Sorry",
with "Break It To Me Gently",
were big hits for Brenda Lee.
Big with both pop and country,
she won the hearts of many.
Author's Comments:
"I was able to obtain the valuable information in writing this poem from a small booklet included in Brenda Lee's CD collection "The Best of Brenda Lee-The Millenium Collection, available on MCA records."
Viv had planned to be out supping real ale
But his wife had a different idea
Furniture assembly - Viv's face turn pale
but he gritted his teeth, and said ‘yes dear’
Alas, to poor Viv's utter dismay
the instruction booklet could not be found
With stiff upper lip, it won't mar his day
His ******** expertise will astound
So Viv got to it, banging and screwing
to achieve an outstanding ********
Celeste the cat’s contentedly mewing
Watching Viv work to utter perfection
Viv's DIY skills were put to the test
He reached his goal with no help from Celeste!
Poem based on Viv's blog
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/blogs/blog_detail.aspx?BlogID=33348&PoetID=62162
My ONLY sonnet in 2018
3/8/18
Where I once lived natural and free on and island boarded by an azure sea. I found myself now living in what is called euphemistically a 55 plus community.
Here the people from more northern locations share the same cultivations.
On my arrival I was greeted with an element of disdain and handed a three hundred page booklet embezzled with my name.
The booklet was the bible of the home owners association. Follow each rule and there should be no chance of an altercation.
I tried to blend in but as hard as I tried I could not put my old ways aside.
So here I be listening to mindless cacophony lost in thought of how life use to be.