Long Bookworm Poems
Long Bookworm Poems. Below are the most popular long Bookworm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bookworm poems by poem length and keyword.
Expelled from paradise, directed down to hell
Whose court is talking about justice here?
Yours are the apples, and your garden blooms so well
Pick any fruit, and treat the snake, my dear
The cruel punishment will never put them right,
Your congregation of the disingenuous slaves
The triumph of the law will not be glorified
By their rants expanded through the airwaves
If it's the other way around, what about
The high intention of a servant to command
Slaves become masters, so you see their snouts
Stick everywhere, your privacy is scanned
Sisyphus pushes up again his cobblestone
Choirs sing the psalms into the painted sky
Whilst in his tiny room the last bookworm
Hears the voices of those who refused to die.
A pool table lined with blue felt
sports a lively, raucous game,
ivory cracks, the men drink,
shoot the bull while they play.
A humidor lined in fine wood
stocked with Cuban cigars,
a smoking lounge grandiose,
ceiling painted like the stars.
A bar right out of the Wild West
serves beer and old whiskey,
an insurance guy loosing at darts
to a bookworm with a PhD.
A library stocked with real books,
no paperbacks or e-books there,
classics vaunted alongside the
spy novels and western fare.
Gym in the basement, no windows,
where everyone toils and sweats,
a sauna large, and no member
has grown tired of a steam yet.
Upstairs is the banquet hall,
used once a month for feasts,
where steak is served bleeding red,
no concoctions of soy or yeast.
On the third floor, rooms to crash
if you’re visiting from out of town,
or if you’ve drank a bit much,
relax, and lay down you head.
Fixtures in brass and mahogany,
reminders of more elegant times,
side rooms for talking business,
a cellar filled with fine wines...
This is our place, our shelter,
when the world rears and ugly head,
yet at least once a month feminists
show up outside and wish us dead.
They like to shout and chant a lot,
with their one word, ‘patriarchy,’
never seeming to realize
their protests are pure malarkey.
This world had lady-only gyms,
and female-only hair salons,
they never decry that as sexism,
they just go along to get along.
Turn-about must be fair play,
so we made ourselves this place,
what really bothers them about us
is the mere existence of male space.
But this club is a private affair,
so they’re wasting their powers,
they have places where men don’t tread,
so this place, this is ours.
The Whittlers
The stately county courthouse was their usual meeting place,
a columned Greek Revival, and a lovely public space.
They sat upon their benches under lofty pecan trees,
wood shavings on their ankles and some cedar twixt their knees.
Those old boys were called the whittlers, but that was a disguise.
They came to talk of memories and hang out with the guys.
Born long before the TV went and addled peoples wits,
they could tell some stories that would cause your sides to split.
They'd kid me 'bout the pile of books that I had just checked out.
Said I was sure to ruin my eyes and fry my brain no doubt.
But I guess they got a kick out of their young devoted fan,
'cause they'd trot out all their stories and tell them all again.
There were stories of big ranches and oil boom shanty towns,
of work on rigs as roughnecks and touring rodeo clowns,
and how they used to ride the rails when no work could be found.
But the way they spun those stories had me rolling on the ground.
And in between a whittle and another spit and chew,
they showed me how to whet a knife and tie a buckaroo.
Though they had so many stories and lessons to impart,
I'd have to hear the cowboy code before I could depart.
"You give a man a good hard shake and look him in the eye.
If you mess up, tell it straight, never cover with a lie.
Always give a full day's work and live out each day with heart.
A man's no good without his word, so finish what you start.
Protect the weak and help them, and respect your elders, too.
Never leave a friend behind, nothing else will ever do.
And when your days on Earth are done, according to God's plan,
you can face up to the reaper, and meet him like a man.”
If that was all I learned from them, that lesson was enough.
For a kid without some guidance, this life can be quite tough.
Other folks made fun of them, and thought them no account.
For me they were the heroes I would trade for no amount.
The stately county courthouse still stands upon those grounds,
although now those shaded benches are nowhere to be found.
And where once the mighty whittlers carved and held their court,
the squirrels now gather up pecans and chase around for sport.
© December 28, 2013
Memories of a bookworm. Considerable poetic license taken.
Dear you,
to leave a footprint in the sand of time
you have got to beat the sandstorm,
And heed no attention to those who call you bookworm.
Failures
Do not let it scare you
for it is a way
to get back on track
when you venture astray.
Edison failed a thousand times
Just to light up our world.
Perseverance
It is a dreaded pool
being avoided by a fool
for only those with the heart of patience
can get to its depth without drowning.
Opportunity
It looks like pebble
to the ignorant mind
whilst he cast his precious stones
down beneath the sea bed.
Dedication
This should be your bride
or the groom in your dreams
For the more acquaintance built
the better you can become.
(c) 2020 Muyideen Ayinla
Me and my woman had a fight
I feel like i was knocked out but she only took flight
She left in haste without a hug or a peck
A littered kitchen was my first reality check
The dirty dishes are now screaming at me
The leftovers are whispering “you haven’t ate me”
I tip-toe around crumbs and spills
Like the kitchen was a deadly mine field
The slippery floor was braced to catch me if I fall
Utensils misplaced, a cup where there should have been a bowl
It is getting sticky in the hands and under my feet
This cookhouse used to smell nice and used to look neat
Reaching out for the mop is too acrobatic
Fitting out an apron the wrong-side out, no worries
I turned into a bookworm of manuals just to get the cooker hissing
The kitchen can be a jigsaw puzzle, when a woman is missing
The meals are getting burnt right under my nose
My hands are too few to keep ovens opened or closed
Cooking is like a battlefield in a smokey Kitchen
I guess fingers burn first, after a heart is broken
I have a burnt finger, could a fried arm be next
Let me save the rest of them for typing an apology text
If my kitchen is unstable without her touch
My heart will be rubble without her love
No print on hand-held screens can draw her in...
for only hard-bound, covered books are gems;
held close with love, absorbing through her eyes,
those magic words that fill her heart and mind.
At just months old, she trembled at their sight...
small story books grasped firmly in her hands.
Her mom would read the words, and one by one
she savored them like candy-coated treats.
A 'bookworm' during school years, she oft hid
an open one to read, spread on her lap...
when caught, admonished to put it away;
although, with honors, she would graduate.
Fast forward now, with valued books, she works
as high school English teacher, where she spent
four years herself with great books, growing up,
and now promotes the love for them in teens.
Her town's historical society
embraced her research aptitudes and flair
to read, compile, their books of history.
Dear granddaughter...we are so proud of you.
Sandra M. Haight
University was intimidating at sixteen,
But I decided to take the plunge, and join anyway,
A passionate bookworm me, fond of reading and writing
Prepared to leap in an ocean of knowledge!
First few days were exciting, joyful, but unsettling,
Until I found the irresistible presence of an amazing teacher,
Who with his sense of humour and booming voice
Won hearts of many, in an instant, no wonder mine!
He taught us literature - Charles Lamb and Eliot,
He taught us Virginia Woolfe, the mysterious woman writer,
He introduced us to her unique writing style - stream of consciousness…
I was captivated and got immersed in the world of creativity!
Literature, both prose and poetry alike, was my passion,
Hours and hours passed I stayed completely hypnotized
Listening him recite, the most compelling lines,
As if those powerful lines belonged to him - he was the owner !
A tragedy struck in my third year, when
The professor was going on a leave, and mentioned surgery,
But the next day we were informed he was no more,
This incredible personality had left this earth for a heavenly abode!
That was the first time I encountered death very closely,
And was shattered...losing him was heartbreaking, an irreplaceable void,
I felt his absence for a very long time, even now I do,
He left a lasting impression on the way I find solace in literature!
I am a little Bookworm
I live inside a book
I wriggle
I writhe
I make humans beings squirm
For when they open up my book
They don’t expect to see a worm
How silly
these homosapiens
Do they not realize
My name is Billy Bookworm
and in a book I will reside
So next time you begin to read
and open up your book
Do not scream
Do not shout
What is all that noise about
Just gently turn each page to see
The sweetest bookworm
and that is me...
Written 1st April 2019
Contest: The Bookworm
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
10th in Premier Contest
Contest: YOUR CHOICE LIGHT VERSE (wit,humour,wordplay,puns)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
while figuratively hunting
and pecking around me noggin
force hum theme to write about
lo and behold, the solution
stared me right in front
of my little knob nub nose with gentle clout
cuz, as an avid bookworm, the dictionary,
I enjoy expending hours
to drink up etymological history
relating to the origin and
historical development of words
and their meanings.
with no shadow of a doubt
and most times, this animatronic,
the technique of making and operating
lifelike robots, typically for use
in film or other entertainment
dogmatic, enigmatic fugee dooby
brother beastie boy
(actually a mwm) dislikes to flout
his abilities, hobbies, interests,
as aches hike kant imagine being treated for gout
a disease in which defective metabolism
of uric acid causes arthritis, especially
in smaller bones of the feet, deposition
of chalkstones, and episodes of acute pain.
Boot lemme return full circle
to thematic core curriculum aye started to aim
and express gratitude
to the ghost of Noah Webster,
who gets credit yet also blame
if some snide haughty guttersnipe,
some slovenly individual feels snubbed,
and hence, living personage, said descendent(s)
of oblivion, whatever unknown
man or woman to living persons
stake a valid claim
that his/her many generations removed
heir (Harris), and or heiress ancestor (proven
with tangible researched reportage,
then cited with countless
prestigious explorers of English language),
that a daunting scrivener perhaps
even a courtesan or rich dame
rightfully ought to receive the fame,
thus such living relative might
upend the huck cult personality be game
to dare challenge secure historical niche
ambitiously held by Mark Roget (1779–1869),
British physician, natural theologian
and lexicographer. It was released
to the public on 29 April 1852.
The original edition had 15,000 words,
and each new matured edition
of the Thesaurus grew larger.
Modupe
teacher, curious seeker, bookworm and a doting mother
Daughter of David and Ruth
lover of her family, her profession of faith in a living God and her
freedom to live a simple and truthful life
who feels joy when she cheers up a weary heart, pain watching a battered soul without
hope and depressed when her hands are limp to strengthen a weak knee.
who fears being useless when it matters most, inability to take charge of messy situation
and a sense of inadequacy in a chosen career.
who would love to have a blissful moment in a safe jungle without civilization and witness
a dawn of peace in this wicked world,
resident of House of Grace, Nigeria
Sefunmi