Long Burn up Poems
Long Burn up Poems. Below are the most popular long Burn up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Burn up poems by poem length and keyword.
Once read that a kangaroo can't jump
Unless its tail is touching the ground
I've tried it and I couldn't jump either
I too, was literally earth bound
Heaviest land mammal is the elephant
Weighing around 8,000 pounds
Me mum-in-law comes in a close second
Those booms are her walking around
A quarter has 119 grooves on its edge
A dime has only 118 grooves
Bet you'll be able to sleep well tonight
This information tends to soothe
A whale's heart beats 9 times a minute
Faster when they're having sex
Imagine the picture you guys are having
Afterwards, smoking a cigarette
It's a little known fact that baby robins
Eat 14 feet of worms a day
Imagine the heartburn these guys have
Need lotsa Pepto Bismol I'd say
If you ever decide to walk to the sun
It would take you about 2000 years
If someone started back in 14 A.D.
They're just about to burn up, I fear
In Turkey, back in the 16th century
Drinking coffee could get you hanged
Imagine if they killed you for that today
Populations would drop with a bang
Every 8 seconds, a new baby is born
Every 14 seconds there's a death
I suggest we all should stop having sex
Coz we won't have any space left!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Once read that a kangaroo can't jump
Unless its tail is touching the ground
I've tried it and I couldn't jump either
I too was literally earthbound
Heaviest land mammal is the elephant
Weighing close to 8,000 pounds
Me mum-in-law comes in a close second
Those booms are her walking around
A quarter has 119 grooves on its edge
A dime has only 118 grooves
Bet you'll be able to sleep well tonight
This information tends to soothe
A whale's heart beats only 9 times a minute
Faster when they're having sex
Imagine the picture you guys are seeing
Afterward, smoking a cigarette
It's a little-known fact that baby robins
Eat 14 feet of worms a day
The heartburn these guys must be having
Need lotsa Pepto Bismol I'd say
If you decide to walk all the way to the sun
It would take you bout 2000 years
If someone started back in 18 A.D.
They're just about to burn up, I fear
In Turkey, back in the 16th century
Drinking coffee could get you hanged
Imagine if they killed you for that today
Populations would drop with a bang
Every 8 seconds, a new baby is born
Every 14 seconds there's a death
Suggest we all stop having sex every night
Coz there won't be any space left!
Mine offset fooey zook equilibrium
translated into at least one raw bit
(hmm...maybe the naughty one) being askew,
which nearly (worse case scenario) critically
could burn up every hair strand fiber optic wired conduit
sans, and destroy the primary, secondary, tertiary...
connection of this (motherf******) circuit
board, which (sorry tubby explicit),
whew close call offset (viz skin of
"FAKE" teeth), in NIC of time avoided major deficit
thankfully technical glitch
bit dust courtesy re: micro
processor faux wall thwarted,
toppling scaffolding upholding democracy forfeit
sure would totally wreck global functionality luckily
ace craftsman ma papa with keen insight
anticipated built-in catastrophic fail/
safe under soldering gun,
preemptively incorporated chess
grandmaster measured gambit,
hence avoiding future government
shutdowns since implicit
within migrant manufactured mesh
of webbed components houses white lie
sense to circumvent, via automatic
nanobyte size trigger
comprising a binary coded buffered kilobyte,
yours truly able to attune
consciousness to any slight
fluctuation, perturbation, variation, et cetera
imperceptible to nobody but me,
a "smart" sensor, that doubles as infrared light,
whereby coded instructions encrypted airtight
bequeathed to this artificial intelligence
as digitally patented birthright
also linkedin virtual reality appurtenances
portray futuristic bombsight
of World War III a minuscule,
yet not improbable chance event, some bright
eyed and bushy tailed hacker infringes copyright
gleefully launching atomic missiles,
which thermonuclear midnight
leaving Earth a lifeless burnt offering,
where scant bands escape by spaceflight,
whence this garden variety
will no longer be able to write!
Imagine a black velvet curtain
Pinholed to allow specked light
Now imagine that same curtain
Endlessly stretching out of sight
And there you have the immense
Velvet blackness of outer space
In which I hang and float seeing
That speckled velvet any way I face
I suppose I am that lucky man
To know the exact second he will die
No single second longer possible
No matter how or what I try
For the oxygen of life is finite
In my cocooned fragile suit of death
I can rest here calm and unmoving
And so harvest every single breath
Or I can thresh and move and panic
Burn up my allowance fast
Never quite sure which breath
May be the next to last
I am speaking my thoughts slowly
There is so much I want to say
And I hope oh how I hope
I will be found some day
And maybe then just maybe
Some descendant may know
How much I loved life
And how I loved her so
I am that one lucky man
Of our ship crew of five
The only one still here
The only one still alive
Routine maintenance inspection
Left me suited spaceside and in luck
The only one to survive the hit
When that unknown object struck
My thoughts are now recorded
I am reconciled and at peace
I shall open this seam soon to cold cold space
And so choose my own moment of release
Cruel fate is perhaps
Really a considerate friend
Allowing me the means
To make my own end
In that black velvet curtain
Pinholed to allow specked light
That same black velvet curtain
Endlessly stretching out of sight
"Phoenix Raine"
My fabulous firebird
You burn up with rage
And fall into a pile of hot ashes
Then your tears "Raine" down to put them out
You are renewed
Fresh and ready to share yourself again
During your moontimes
Hormones turn you into a dragon
Protecting your treasures
Your heart, spirit and emotions
With roaring and flames
But that passes too
And once again you share your treasure
With all who come near you
You are a fairy
Flitting around on wings of kindness
Helping everyone
Looking after babies to give mothers a break
Always there for everyone
Your smile lights the world
And your inner beauty shines in your face
You are my mythological child
And I love you
There's many things a fire can do
Can't list them all so here's a few
It starts out small and then grows big
Begins with just a spark and twig
Amazed by the fires graceful dance
Flames dancing with such elegance
Embers fade into the dark night
So fearless and ready to fight
Fire symbolizes a rebirth
It will help you find your true worth
Fire represents your power, too
Rising from the ashes anew
A fire can warm up your cold toes
Or burn up tall trees by the groves
The flames dance and flitter about
Trying so hard not to go out
With a fire you should never flirt
If you do, you'll surely get hurt
When using fire, please use great care
Fire is danger, so please beware
The idea of a living constitution
has the same forensic indeterminacy
as a committed dream.
I am content to trust this dream to the end
to have it fill my cup of hope all day and night.
I am content to receive its order
to hasten to obey without a pause.
But, the old voice sounds
unrelentingly in the chamber: Do not
compromise. Punish.
Crucify him.
The infirm musing of a perpetual dreamer
rising up with eyes wild for relief.
I am content with the terror and anticipation that
keeps turns by watching me:
Justice, once imagined, cannot be undone.
I have been left to think along these lines
to look for the abandonment of arcane unfairness
months after months.
The months
burn up as a fading lantern
homage to the majesty of the absurd:
A muse easy to bear, Camusian laughter to
suffering’s exalted well —
what single rule might break the dry spell?
Sometimes the unforeseen, the unpredictable
springs in the heart of justice
bending its way upward
again and yet again
towards a distant point
all unaccountably, into the strengthening clasp
of fresh now-born idea,
nearer to binding faith
than wild dismembering injustice.
When the far-distant element
of suffering humanity
looms out more clear;
the faint, far, complex notes of hope
its head moves near
and new flicks of justice’s well
unfolds beyond the known.
Is there any new depth to this well?
Say, what is its true nature?
Quietly nature covers over
the dying bird and the dead rover.
If justice’s dead, it is as though
a robin died beneath the snow
tucked away neatly, whose bright eyes
once stared with impudent surprise
at every tit-bit flung to her.
Now every season we must bear
to live without its whistled air,
for law lives beneath the Spring,
like a sequestered paradise
exiled from the steady hammer of faith,
a trackless rice field
ever trudging through groves of
crouching, unconquered territories.
Oh enchanted universe
conqueror of earth’s stadium
in your wild, singing glory
the faults you committed live.
Come hear my sharpened cries
surely, you can hear my note of crisis.
Ceaselessly I raise my cry.
My cry ascends and floats away
scattered by whirling winds afar.
* “Endure what you suffer as being a father’s punishment.” (Heb. 12:5b-7)
Author's note: written on the anniversary of Harvard's abuse of my human rights
How bright they are, those shooting stars
that dart across the evening sky!
We gaze at them with wonderment,
aware their light will quickly die.
We grownups know the truth about
these beauties. They’re not stars at all,
but dust and bits of rock that shine,
then burn up as they quickly fall.
When kids say, “Look—a shooting star,”
let’s not be killjoys who declare
the scientific facts about
what’s zooming through the nighttime air!
Date Posted: August 13, 2019
Contest Title: Shooting Stars Received an NA
Date: September 25, 2019
Contest Title: N-A Rerun 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
3/3/15
Remember we take responsibility on our own account
As of now
How?
Could you have any idea what I'm about
If you just listen to what came out of another person's mouth
Especially if it was negative and rather foul
Then don't you dare have a cow
Before giving me a chance to disprove the doubts
Not that I'm worried about having to verify or vouch
And with that I'm out
Stomach continuing to growl
Time to get some chow
Preferrably kung pao
Cruising around the town
To familiar and unfamiliar grounds
Enjoying the moment atop the mountains and the profound
Amount of clouds
Aiming to rise higher with less fluctuation than the renowned DOW
And if not, I'd still be proud
For trying instead of giving up and holding my head down
It's not allowed
Don't cross the line or move out of bounds
Like a wolf, I like to stare up at the moon and howl
Before continuing on the prowl
With senses and vision sharper than an owl
Never blowing my cover or making a sound
Sometimes I burn up so much loud
All by myself or with a crowd
By: Dalton Ogletree
There it is
The old kettle
Whispering on the hearth
In the winter it speaks to me
Of nights out on the moor
And as the wind
It whistles down the chimney
From above
I see the flames
Are whipped upon
Like Jesus carrying the cross
I’ll tell you the story though
I don’t know how it will end
There was a woman I married once
At least I think that’s how we met
She came to me in flowing clothes
As green as the grass she strode
I barely dared to look at her face
As she drew me ever on
And led me to the river
Across a wide meadow
Her presence seemed so odd to me
I began to shiver cold
As I stepped upon the river stones
The water stilled my soul
But then as she took off her linen robe
I began to burn up
I devote this dream to pallid nightfall!
The incredible lady said
And then she turned into a pale white horse
As real as you are there
A grey-white river mare she was
She led me deeper in
Her neck was strong
Her mane was proud
Some kind of wondrous change-ling
I tried to question it all myself
But powerless, up to my knees
I was aware of what was going on
But unable to plead
A woman again she turned to me
And loudly proclaimed
I seemed to have warmed you up, she said
I’d better cool you down
Tell me, am I a huntress?
Am I the one who had the first vision?
Why are we here in this infinite now
Stuck in this wandering prism?
The pouring out of a life
Can be so heartless, so cruel
And that is why I come to you now
To help soften the truth.