Long Carless Poems

Long Carless Poems. Below are the most popular long Carless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Carless poems by poem length and keyword.


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If I were heavy into all sports and loved racing fast cars;                                                                                                                 if I were shorter, taller, fatter, thinner, quieter, louder;                                                                                                      if I were an atheist, theist, gnostic, or agnostic;                                                                                                                    wouid you still love me?

If I were American, Asian, African, European, or other;                                                                                                                            democratic, republican, or non-political;                                                                                                        if my hair was black, blond, brown, or red;                                                                                                                  would you still love me?

If I had no arms, one eye, or one leg;                                                                                                                                could not walk, talk, dance, or sing;                                                                                                                              homeless, carless, or jobless;                                                                                                                        would you still love me?

If I were born handicapped;                                                                                                                                                   dirt poor like my parents;                                                                                                                                              my IQ were above or below 100;                                                                                                                      would you still love me?                                                                                                              

12032018PoSoupContest, Would You Still Love Me?, Edward Ibeh


37 Ode to the Flower of January 2011

37.

Ode to the Flower of January 2011





Got two flowers before thee

From Uncle Jake's eulogy –



The first one was yesterday

At ‘bout twelve-thirty midday

In front CapSU-D Admin

Where with others ‘twas standin'

But inside my shirt's pocket

Pumped already when I get



So this day his burial

While in offering floral

When with others I aligned

Got another of same kind

Along with “Lead Me Lord” song

Unnoticed amidst the throng



After got the second one

At post-necro sun was gone

To cemetery onward

For minutes, rain poured so hard

Carless, like us, stopped awhile

Till sun again showed its smile


Burial to be continued

On cemetery we should

After Uncle Jake's son cried

Last bundles I picked with pride

Thought me I'll change my flower

But oh! I'd to turn over



And oh! Poked Nene Intan

I got again another one

Of same color, same specie

White orchid – I got with glee

Then finally, I threw it

Inward my Uncle Jake's pit



Yet now that I have my third

Its origin turned absurd

Confusion into my mind

Memory wants a rewind

From where did I really take

This orchid for Uncle Jake –



Was it from those turned over?...

Or from the stem thrown under?...

Anyway, this white orchid

Is for sure my greatest bid –

It heard the priest's liturgy

Being teacher's praiseworthy.



-01/22/11

(Dumarao)

*wants a unique poetry habit: Ode to the 7 Flowers of 2011
Form: Ode

Prone Alone

Used and discarded thought shadows lurk
at every sunrise as if each were renewed.
A touch from the fading past, in a moment
as i look at the wet pebbles, ever decreasing.
Welcoming the receding tide, a caressing breeze
on which floats, the busy two tone oyster catcher.
On that breeze voice’s travel, voice's calling out
over the relentless, out going, in coming waves.
Are we all but driftwood ? Leaving to return
when the gorse flower is yellow in rare sunlight.
Maybe rudderless, in a firm belief and trust,
of our hearts compass, and its choice is free.
Be elusive ! Leave no trace, be faceless in
milling throngs and crowds, not out of place.
Perhaps a living phantom, amongst many,
yet never carless in your constant carefree.
Blend into the background, be seamless.

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