Long Breaking rules Poems
Long Breaking rules Poems. Below are the most popular long Breaking rules by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breaking rules poems by poem length and keyword.
Verse A:
Oh how you've honed rebellion, made an art of breaking rules
Just to garner my affection, but I didn't have the tools
(And I never suffered fools - no I never suffered fools)
I loved you with my diligence and bent my back to make
A bridge of opportunities and a path for you to take
(Cleared a passage for your sake - yes a passage for your sake)
Chorus A:
Can you see it, in the mist
There on high - there on high?
There's an arch, heaven-kissed
In the sky, the hazy sky
You may not see it now
But I built it strong with love
And one day it will hold you
Bye-and-bye, bye-and-bye
Yes, one day it will hold you
Bye-and-bye.
Verse B:
Oh I know how I've failed you in many ways I can't explain
We'll never have a friendship - I've caused you so much pain
(So many wounds remain - yes so many wounds remain)
Still I love you to my marrow, with a magnitude, profound
And I built a span, enduring, so you'd walk on solid ground
(So you'd be safe-and-sound - yes so you'd be safe-and-sound)
Chorus B:
Can you see it, in the night
There on high - there on high?
There's an arch, burning bright
In the sky, the somber sky
Perhaps you can not see it
But with love, it long endures
And one day it may save you
Bye-and-bye, bye-and-bye
Yes, one day it may save you
Bye-and-bye.
Verse C:
Oh I know my life is waning, and my faculties are weak
My strength is failing daily, and I've lost my grand physique
(Now my prognosis is bleak - yes my prognosis is bleak)
And though I can not tell you how I feel before I go
I know someday you'll cross that bridge, and then, my son, you'll know
(Just how much I love you so - yes how much I love you so)
Chorus C:
Can you see it, through the storm
There on high - there on high?
There's a refuge, safe and warm
In the sky, the windy sky
I know that you can't see it, but have faith that it is there
I molded it with these two hands, with kindness, love and care
So every time you need a bridge you'll know that I am there
To carry you to safety
Bye-and-bye, bye-and-bye
Yes, to carry you to safety ...
Bye-and-bye.
(Repeat Out)
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Twisting in the winds of pain
Hung by unseeing hands
Crying to the empty night
Hope has long since abandoned me
To desolation’s cold embrace
Find solitude in numbness
As what once brought happiness
Leaches away my joy
Regrets chase me
Across this barren wasteland
And into the shadows I fall
And into the shadows I crawl
And with despair I scream
To deaf ears with a muted voice
Safe within the shadows
I squeeze my eyes closed
Shutting out their world
The silence and stillness
Begin to suffocate me
Through the oppression comes a call
A bitter cry much like my own
Towards her I wander
Unsure of what I seek
Yet searching all the same
I find her lying there
Amid the ruin
Faint moonlight shines upon her
Illuminating her battered body
Peering into her eyes
I find a powerful essence
Silhouettes of a pain hidden
She is beautiful
Like nothing I have seen
We approach each other
Lost in the miracle
A refuge in her arms
An understand between us
I offer my disfigured heart
Trusting her to keep it
Receive her precious heart
Vowing to always guard it
Two forsaken souls united
Burning in the darkness
Is our love’s fiery glow
Yet this bliss of ours
Couldn’t remain forever
Talons of ignorance
Abduct me from her side
Yet I carry her heart close to me
Despite their best efforts
Our love wont be extinguished
They imprison me
Within society
Just close my eyes open my mind
And beside me she stands
Reach through the bars of my cage
Crossing lines unseen
Breaking rules unspoken
Risking and losing all
For moments with her
Her smile is a treasure
Worth more than my sacrifice
For every wall we conquer
A hindrance remains
Battle strengthens our bond
Yet we are drained of hope
She turns from me in sorrow
She starts to walk away
Fear consumes my anguished soul
Quietly I walk beside her
Feeling dispirited
Without the words I seek
Silently taking her hand
If only for the last time
Despite my hesitance
Or maybe for it
She stops before the ledge
Returning to shadows with me
Form:
You pulled apples from the tree.
A tree that was not yours or mine.
“They aren’t ours to take. Let’s go,” I plead.
But you just threw a smile at me that was so divine.
I couldn’t say no when you look at me with that
shine in your eyes.
So, I grabbed your hand as we slowly walked away-
Bug eaten apples weighing down our lies.
My heart was in dismay because my body couldn’t help but obey.
We ended up at a fence surrounding a horse pasture.
You held out an apple, beckoning the horses closer.
I knew this would only end in disaster,
But the thrill filling my veins didn’t want this to be over.
When you asked if you should climb the fence-
I smiled and said, “You’re already breaking rules, why not?”
I watched as you feed stolen apples to a horse that wasn’t yours, in suspense.
When you waved me over, I shrugged, acting like I wasn’t afraid of getting caught.
I placed my hands on the top of the fence-
And pulled myself up,
Wondering how my morals got so complex.
Because once I got to the top, I did not hesitate to jump.
You placed an apple in my hand.
And instructed me to bend down.
My heart beat against my chest, unable to withstand the demand.
All I wanted was to turn back around.
But as I tried to stand back up, you placed a hand on my shoulder,
Pressing my knees into the ground.
You always had to be the controller.
I really don’t understand why you were crowned.
I looked up at you,
Your smile plastered to your lips.
I couldn’t tell if you liked the view.
Or if you were just playing by the script.
Either way, I was afraid.
Because I didn’t want to be a thief.
I knew then that I shouldn’t have stayed.
My hands shook in disbelief.
Because in that moment, I realized it was too late to leave.
And that you had me right where you wanted me.
I believed the lies you weaved.
In shame, my tears fell to the ground, deciding it was time to flee.
‘Out’-discipline!
“Teacher, beaten by student.” “Student stabs another in squabble.”
“Teachers found without Lesson Plan.” “Noise level unbearable.”
Unfortunately, these would only be a few of the sordid headlines;
To duly ‘captivate’ readers, if every school had its own newsletter.
The very fabric of our beloved society has become deteriorated;
Because our homes and schools have failed to function effectively.
The consequences of this failure are dramatic and far-reaching.
Therefore, immediate redress for this chaos, we should be seeking,
Teachers frequently liming; the nation’s youths, we not educating.
Usually unprepared: for work, at work; and, not completing work.
The students are not: studying, doing home-work, nor assignments.
All busy; yet, finding time for gambling, hustling, surfing ****, etc...
The school surroundings depicting ‘pollution party;’ absolutely nasty.
Manners no longer, “maketh man...” nor woman, much-less children.
This is every school’s catastrophe; total, complete, present-day anomie.
Bending/breaking rules, norms, morals or ethics - ‘perfect’ indiscipline.
Indiscipline! Everyone fed-up: teachers, students; even the parents.
Who is now responsible? Corrective measures must make statements.
‘Heads must roll’ for incompetence; ‘butts should burn’ for laziness.
Neither students nor teachers must be ‘late for school,’ or ‘bussing a lime’.
Punishment must definitely be meted out for disrespect to teachers.
Actions must be taken for insubordination, and also for instigation.
Indiscipline must be addressed immediately and harshly, to redress...
We fed-up! We taking absolutely drastic measures to ‘iron-out’ this mess.
End
By: Dion Penville
Those who are now elderly sit and reminisce
of sweet idyllic days which often they miss.
Sitting as families in beaming abodes
whilst a flickering fire dances and glows
Cosy nights in with cards and knitting
and days in the garden, weather permitting.
Snakes and ladders with family members
bed time when fire burns to smouldering embers
At school they were eager and behaved well
parting from friends with kind farewell
walking home with no worries or cares
helping with tea, then bed after prayers.
Yes, they love to recall memories of times
they learned stories and recited rhymes.
Played games with balls and skipping ropes
grew up with imagination, dreams and hopes
Now the old are found to sit and moan
at the new technology they are shown
the transportation speeding past
how times have progressed much too fast
What happened to appreciating what you got
being thankful despite not receiving a lot
Now seized by temptation, money and greed
today we're consumed by the need to succeed
The loud and so-called 'unique' youth
appear as disorderly, rude and uncouth
the bright, colourful and distinct attire
Is received as offensive, obnoxious and dire
Teenagers walking in packs of elite
music blasting with no rhythm or beat
the old will avoid and cross the road
feeling hostile on return to their abode
The clashes in cultures cause opposition
juveniles grow with too much ambition
thoughts consumed with riches and fame
money, films, music and fashion to blame
little time for families, never mind schools
displaying no respect and breaking rules
What happened to growing with parents as guide?
what happened to strolling in the countryside?
Form:
Diverse Forms of Poetry
Poems, oh poems, so diverse and grand,
A world of words we can't understand,
Each type unique, with its own style,
Capturing moments, making us smile.
Free verse, the rebel of the pack,
Breaking rules, never looking back,
With no set meter or rhyme in sight,
Its freedom of expression is its might.
Haikus, small but oh so sweet,
Three lines of beauty, so neat,
With just seventeen syllables to play,
They capture life in a beautiful way.
Sonnet, the classic form of old,
With fourteen lines, each story told,
Iambic pentameter, the rhythm of love,
Shakespeare's tool, sent from above.
Ballad, the story that sings,
The tale of old with harp strings,
Rhyming couplets, a tale to be told,
A journey of heroes, brave and bold.
Elegy, a mournful song,
A heartache we can't prolong,
A tribute to those we've lost,
Their memory kept at any cost.
Limericks, the silly ones we adore,
Five lines, with laughs galore,
A funny tale of a person or place,
A light-hearted poem, that leaves a trace.
Odes, the praise we do sing,
To the joys life can bring,
A celebration of the beautiful and bright,
A poem that lifts us up to new heights.
So many poems, so many ways,
To express ourselves and share our days,
With words that flow and images clear,
A poem can take us far and near.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY
*************
Having never studied poetry, but composed and wrote it most of my adult life, in the Army, commissions for lovesick, homesick mates. In civvy street, mainly for my wife, the odd commission for enstranged lovers, and off the top my head as party pieces. My point, not once did I consider poetry forms, one or two exceptions, limericks one but no syllable counts, like the poet who said, "sorry, thought syllables were some sought of lolly", soon found out but he was lost, said, "I write what I feel at no cost", "prose I only write on topics jolly". The fate of poetry, tough question, no I don't agree, but, in eight lines, briefly, to warm the hearts of those that read! I now commit to types, sticking to the guidelines when informed. An immediate example is what I am penning now, which applies to both form of prose, no line breaks in either. These modern times there are but a few that stick to rules, I cast no aspersions, they are not fools. Now I must reiterate, I, having never studied poetry, do now, but now and then I hesitate, not for me to change poetries fate, but breaking rules, when you know, is surely not the way to go, it's not too late to change you know!
********************
Eight lines of fate, when you wonder if it is too late Poetry Contest - Sponsored by Silent One
27th June 2018
To the facts we often would allude
Not only are you vulgar but so crude;
(Also vain if you want to add that.)
What you did thought was implicit
To everyone else seemed to be illicit.
Was obscene, absurd and ridiculous
Language used completely ludicrous;
Sure looked suspicious leaving scene;
Left trail of blood from a ruptured spline.
Philosophy often contained curiosity
Face looked awful committing an atrocity;
For hours and days did sit and stare
At women with bodies that were bare.
Poems he wrote were always incomplete
Continually forgot to raise toilet seat
Laughed so much and could not quit
Left his mark by dribbling all over it.
Left town and went on an expedition
After breaking rules about prohibition
Looked at oddly when orange hair observed;
Avoid my miserable body drivers swerved.
Appeared to be apparent us he loathed
When his filth was seen all unclothed
On arm wore image of Putin tattooed
Everyone thought was vulgar and crude.
We are starting to think that
Trump is no laughing matter
at all. Should clumsily slip
and break stupid neck in
shower stall.
Jim Horn
Woke up during night when I found
this poem on my mind hanging around.
Strange. It said that my poem was
written on February 15th. It is the
16th here already in Bolivia, NC
where I live. Oh, well.
i love ice cream in the summertime while sitting on the edge of the lake with my feet wading in the water then catch a breeze so gentle and sweet - I pray another one just like it will pass through.i love a beautiful thought going through my head that is so sweet that it makes no difference that it's not real - because I get the same sensation;Only there is no price to be paid, no one to praise... but goodness for goodness sake. i love just feeling good and being grateful. for being reasonably
healthy after all i have done to defile my temple, and laffing for no other reason but for at that moment nothing is making me sad.i love being in a place where i can be caught up in my thoughts, knowing that i still have friends to share them with and that when i come down from this ivory tower of joyous thoughts. i can dry my feet off - turn on fake air and be ready to analyze some important issues, like which one of my grand kids, has which one of my traits oh well that's it for now...I wrote this all because i read this poster. Yeah i like breaking rules too, so i enjoyed writing this with no punctuation and little i's instead of capitol I's...https://fbcdn-sphotos-c-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/t1.0-9/1504073_732390496818098_5832240819954108140_n.jpg
She's oil in the water, that refuses to blend
With a hair tie on her wrist, embracing the wind
Pleasantly dowdy, breaking rules out of spite
Above laws and limitations. She knows when she's right
Don't go and dare her, she'll do as you please
Just proof to herself, it's fit how she sees
She's never lukewarm, laid back or fickle
It's out of her norm, to feel, just a little
Emotions come in floods of passion and cause
Either, taking her breath, or not there at all
If her aloofness is bothersome and you're pained with concern
Ask and she'll admit, it was too insignificant to be learned
You can't make her debate over anything political
She doesn't care, either way. Not even a little
Her mind is closed shut, accepting no visitors
If you don't live inside, you don't exist to her
A small minded person? Not even close
Pick at her brain. She'll give you a dose
A hardy helping of knowledge, about what she pursues
accrued information. Advice you can use
Sure, she's a challenge from a different planet
She doesn't ask for acceptance, but will quickly demand it
This is her world, you're merely a guest
A Martian for entertainment at its very best