Long By(a) Poems
Long By(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long By(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long By(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
. F.T.W.
F.ree T.he W.aves
f.REE t.HE w.AVES
F.ree T.he W.aves!!!
Is what they say,,
Got my self some true tales
About the world today.
Oil job site fails.
Poor Sea World has to pay.
I found many black sea shells
Oil got in their way.
I wanna claw my nails.
On B.P.for turning our sand to clay
I can sit and give details
How they ruin our ocean bay
Instead I'm sending mean E-MAIL's
Expressing anger for their oily display.
How their stupidities drop our sales.
I hope they choke while eating a sea buffet
I hope someone feeds them sting-ray tails
As they drink coffee at there sea side cafe.
Everything sooner or later prevails
And ocean life will once again find a way.
God send them rain hit them with heavy hail
It's to late for B.P.to pray..
2 months of a black grave trail
((LOL)), B.P.you angered the US.A.
Getting off easy with no jail
That does not make things okay.
I will not wish you all to go to hell
After making the ocean a bigger body of dead prey
Your clean up time is slower than a sea snail
Many uncalled dead seagulls are found in your oily decay
Funny how the president takes the heat of your bail.
You screwed our blue ocean water to a stream of black and grey.
An oil site ran by a higher percent of males
Oh well what can you expect and say.
With the world in the way of oil spills.
Is like B.P.oil's is saying F.T.W.anyway.
While we the protesters say, F.ree T.he W.hales!!!
F.T.W.=free the whales!!!!!
=(contest)=
A ship off the old dock
1869 launched on the Leven
named for an archaic Scottish short shirt
worn by a witch in a Robbie Burns poem
damaged by fire in 2007
a composite construction clipper
with George Moodie as 1st skipper
sailing 8 seasons in the China trade
on the whirling wind across the swirling sea
no they're not made
like that any more
she danced as a dervish carrying tea
then wool for ten years again and again
driving on in record time from Australia to Great Britain
and after all those ocean voyages
from her Dumbarton launch to end her days
a museum on the Thames in Greenwich
only 425 miles away
To Mr. Michael, Bard of Theatrical Yearning,
Your words, like ivy, wind and wind — ornate, impassioned, almost divine.?But I write now with a quieter pen, one that bleeds not drama but truth again.
You call me complacent — a muse asleep??Dear sir, I have only grown quiet to keep?From drowning in tides too high, too fast,?Where your feelings arrive dressed in velvet and masks.
I do not miss the romance, oh no —?I see it in spades in your letter’s flow.?Your charm, your wit, your desperate fire?Could set a room — or a theater — entire?Ablaze with sighs. But is it me you seek??Or the thrill of the line, the applause you tweak?
You jest and gesture, you pine and pose,?With metaphors grand and poetic throes.?Yet when I crave the man, not the play,?You vanish behind the roles you portray.
I’ve not been unmoved — I’ve been overwhelmed,?As if love were a ship, and you at the helm?Would rather paint storms than steer us home,?Sailing in circles through froth and foam.
I do not need sonnets or grand design —?Just you — uncostumed, unpolished, plain-spine.?Tell me your fears, not your fables or plays.?Let’s talk like two souls who’ve walked real days.
I treasure your heart, your laughter, your flame,?But love is not born of performance or fame.?It’s patience. It’s presence. It’s pause and breath —?Not a whirlwind courtship staged near death.
So here I am, not lost, nor cold —?But tired of tales so lush and bold?They leave no room for quiet truth.?I do not need a knight in youth,?But a partner who can sit and stay —?Not just enchant, then flit away.
If you wish a union, as you say you do,?Meet me not in sonnets — but simply in you.
Yours in thought,?
Ms. Crane
Note: This is a sequel to “December 3, 2000” by a dear poetic friend. Please go check out his wonderful poem for context.
I still read the letters
Kept quiet in the drawer
Though it has been forever
Since I was at your door
The blackened ink still bleeds,
And seeps into the last
Of paper memories
And conversations passed
Awoken with a glance,
And colored by a stare,
The lost forgotten pages
Are resurrected there
And still they speak to me
In voices clear as day
Of friendship closely shared
And feelings gone away
Like scraps of faded time
Reborn within my soul,
They share each moment had –
Each syllable let go
And though I long to keep
These colored visions close,
I’ll put them back to sleep,
And turn them into ghosts.
Wise Enough to Know
I'm wise enough
to know what I don't know
I think fast but my brain's slow
rivers of thought
cause my mind to flow
Still it seems I'm dumb enough
to put on a vain show
Will you follow me
to the places I want to go?
Wise enough
I look through windows clear
I'm over there by the juke box
wishing you were sitting near
Watching you play with your ear
Dumb me I close the curtains
darkening the atmosphere
thinking you might see me better
and come over here
I lack swag and courage
I'm paralyzed by my own fear
I'm wise enough
To see my own faults
And accept them for what they are
They seem smaller when viewed from afar
I can't drive away quick enough
in my pimped out get away car
I'm dumb enough
To be blinded by this prosperity
yet figuratively
I like the ambiguity
of not being able to see
my own incongruity
Maybe dumb is part of my personality
I'll probably never be the best version of me
after all I'm my own worst enemy
I try denying that money can change my heart
Still the cash flows from the art
Break it down by numbers tear it apart
Pop the balloon with a dart
Gas from my ego
smells worse than a fart
I'm wise enough to know
I've got a lot of learning to do
If I knew you you'd teach me
I'm sure it's true
I could become the me
of the who's who
Crystal clearly seeing you
I like your particular shade of blue
is there anything you can't do?
I'm dumb enough not to know
to much learning can turn me into a fool
I'm the thread to your needle
smooth like plastic
I've stretched so much
you might think I'm elastic
Unable to be held by a wooden spool
I hope you find my multicolours cool
stitch this heart to your fabric
for you I'd gladly play the fool
I can't swim but I'd jump in with both feet
to the deep end of your pool
You'd help me be wise enough
to avoid the traps and pitfalls of life
So if you are dumb and wise enough to be my wife
Stumble with me into paradise!
Another collaborative piece with my friend Freddie Robinson Jr.
Thank you Freddie you are inspirational. I am also glad my wife stumbled with me or perhaps I tripped her so that I could catch her. Either way it has been paradise ( at least for me).
Living in a sleepy slumber..
As life passes by..
As one day is another..
eyes shut..
A daily grind of deceitfulness..
Masterminds of manipulation corrodes the air
A sleepwalking corroded mind asleep at the wheel..
The wheel of life is spinning ..
Trapped in yesterday..
A sleeping mind stagnant
As web of lies had spun deliberately..
Matrix of falsehoods had risen..
Awakened by a sleepy slumber..
Where every day is precious ..
Truth is not just spoken..
Truth is shown..
Eyes wide open..
Feeling over the moon with blessings.
A daily grind of gratitude..
Where vibrant colors of the rainbow captivate ones spirit..
With an open heart..
A beautiful mind awakened to the truth..
The wheel of life radiates love..
As the truth shall always set us free..
When I was only ten years old, I yelled at my TV
For I could not believe the filth they played to kids like me
Right there upon my TV screen, a frog with skin of green
Was lusted after by a pig whose plans were quite obscene
That frog would always act like he was playing hard to get
But that there pig would have her way… it was a certain bet
Well, some years on I met that frog and frankly I saw red
I glared right at that dirty frog and this is what I said…
Up yours, Bacon-Balls, there’s no ifs and no buts
I’d bet ten bucks you let that pig have access to your nuts
So up yours, Bacon-Balls, your love life is a crime
A frog that sleeps with pigs should be a frog that’s doing time
Amphibians ain’t meant to speak, but he’d been on TV
He stood there with an attitude and tried to make me see
I glared at him and said there’s nothing here to be discussed
A frog that sleeps with piggies is a frog I’ll never trust
Up yours, Bacon-Balls, there’s no ifs and no buts
I’d bet ten bucks you let that pig have access to your nuts
So up yours, Bacon-Balls, your love life is a crime
A frog that sleeps with pigs should be a frog that’s doing time
See, I’d just seen my dentist and he told me you’d been in
He said he had to throw you out or land one on your chin
He wouldn’t see you then, nor would he polish up the gnashers
Of any frog whose teeth and breath smelled much like bacon rashers
Up yours, Bacon-Balls, there’s no ifs and no buts
I’d bet ten bucks you let that pig have access to your nuts
So up yours, Bacon-Balls, your love life is a crime
A frog that sleeps with pigs should be a frog that’s doing time
That frog has really messed me up. My nightmares feature girls
They all have snouts, four trotters and a little tail that curls
My given name is Herman so my friends all call me Hermie
But in my nightmare all those pigs squeal, “Come to Mumma, Kermie!”
Up yours, Bacon-Balls, there’s no ifs and no buts
I’d bet ten bucks you let that pig have access to your nuts
So up yours, Bacon-Balls, your love life is a crime
A frog that sleeps with pigs should be a frog that’s doing time
I only hope that, one day, on him, law enforcement calls
And at the gallows they will hang him by his bacon balls
Be sure that I shall be right there to watch him as he falls
And as they pull the lever, I’ll cry, “Up yours, Bacon Balls!”
My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed
From grayed ashes you rose from the nest
Burns exposed through charred black dress
One last breath, one more death, laid to rest
Sins of an immortal soul, you chose to confess
Wings scorched and tattered, pinions burned
Determined to fly, a phoenix rises in the night
Though your grieving heart was again spurned
Rise, valorous Phoenix, rise and take flight
From cleansing flames your heart is reborn
Torn from smoldering embers, journeying on
your way...a withered rose, pricked by a thorn
Poor lovely creature, to ill fate you are drawn
Firebird of beauty, left for dead without feign
Fallen but never defeated, you shall never die
Over you, dark death holds no tyrannical reign
Rise, intrepid Phoenix, rise to freedom and fly!
March 21, 2021 ~ Phoenix Rising Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
In the city of clocks where the seconds bleed blue,
Walks the man who is surely not from Timbuktu.
He carries a suitcase of unspoken rain,
And a compass that points to the center of pain.
His hat is a nebula, tilted just so,
While his shadow’s melting in lambent-lit snow.
He drinks from a cup filled with yesterday’s noise,
And trades his reflection for the clockwork of toys.
He wasn’t born by a map or a dust-covered street,
With the roots of the stars tangled under his feet.
He asks for the way to a place with no name,
While his pockets spill over with fresh frozen flame.
Don’t look for his passport in the shifting sand,
He’s a ghost with a sunflower held in his hand.
A traveler whose born from a glitch in the sky,
With a thousand years tucked in the hub of his eye.