Long Centre stage Poems
Long Centre stage Poems. Below are the most popular long Centre stage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Centre stage poems by poem length and keyword.
What’s your view?
Is there a hue?
That for you
Will on cue
Always imbue
Your soul renew
The one colour
Couldn’t poo poo
Makes others duller
Wouldn’t eschew
Pure & true
We’ve all known
Tone is prone
To stir such emotion
Some say sky or sea
Others disown
The big blue notion
Shrouds of clouds
Lure of azure ocean
For me a dosage
Of grown foliage
Honed my devotion
The most verdant sheen
I have ever seen
That magic potion
Tincture of Greens!
A cricket pitch
Without a hitch
Can bewitch
Bowling green
Billiards baize
Rays ablaze
Can amaze
Who doesn’t fawn
Over dew at dawn
On a lovely lawn
Passion pops
Preens the tops
Fashions any copse
Captivating thrills
Spills across
Undulating hills
Don't need a permit
To be a hermit
Rest In a forest
The colour of kermit
A tinge to binge
Can’t cringe..shan’t impinge
Only if flames singe
Would cause a twinge
Fresh from Mother Nature’s syringe
There’s no other shade
She’s sprayed
Life conveyed
Jade dappled glade
Strife allayed
Laborious glorious fringe rife
So dutifully…beautifully made
Not a skinflint hint
Or skint glint
Stints of prints
Of green tints
Like cooling Mint
Or the sublime lime
Of summertime fooling
Could be the emerald
Only Spring can herald
Or go full throttle
Embracing the green of racing
Or the mottle of bottle
Let sage take centre stage
Held captive by olive
Maybe Pea or Sea glee
Say what you see
Always classy
Brassy let’s call it grassy
Which is why
It’s a bonsai dye
I’m a verdant merchant
With a trenchant penchant
For this natural screen
Finessing..caressing & dressing wood
Glean a lovely keen sheen
Whether trees or Pease pud
That could have only ever been GREEN!
Tradition held sway and little Jesus emerged from the cellar
It had been cold and dusty next to coal and a pile of potatoes
There was no water all year and wine bottles were corked up
For the joy of Christmas celebrations and the feast of the Saviour
He had not seen the light of the day for so long and he longed
For centre stage once again like an angel in lonely retirement
‘Yes’ he shouted ‘this is my nest’ as he emerged with the manger
Tinsel hung on the tree and the ornaments adorned his rebirth
‘Don’t know how Santa Claus avoids the flames but this is my show’
Out of the sheltering wrapper he came and looked at the scene
Three kings gifted the fragrance of perfume and mulled beverage
Children’s eyes glowed liked great balls of fire in anticipation
Of peace love kindness and compassion to emerge with all kin
Even the family cat would not be scolded if she ascended the twigs
The little result of virgin conception could not quite understand
Why he had been confined in his under-croft vault for so long
Was he not the glorious bearer of good tidings not just for a day
Maybe they might feed him a few gingerbread biscuits or a cuppa
And he would make a speech about halting feuds and conflicts
As well as not to feather one’s nest with neighbour’s belongings
But just as he was ready to jump into the cradle he noticed that
His place had been taken by Pinocchio with a broken off nose
30th November
My old four paw boy is a senior
Although older he has a nice demeanour
He is strong, loyal and portly
Turned from centre stage to mr grumpy
His eyes still shine bright
His mind and tummy are still right
Brings so much joy to the family
And enjoys his days lazily
He is the dog version of Goldilocks
Everything to be just right with no shocks
No fireworks or loud noises
Not too hot or too cold, only wants specific voices
He is a wonderful boy, kind and compassionate
Always listens while sat up straight
Friendly with children
He is one on a trillion
The best friend anyone could ever have
Just have a treat close to hand
they had piled up tinder wood and firecrackers
under the cauldron ready for the feast as they
shelled out wisdom and claimed justice
after all humanity was at stake
and doomsayers were to be pleased
camouflaged for everyone was weary
of four apocalyptic riders up to no good
greed on a pig saddled its grip
pride kicked spurs on a bloody cockerel
lust dribbled down from the rat’s fangs
wrath whipped cockroach’s panzer
no need for envy because
gluttony had feasted on bone meal
and sloth had been given the day off
as they had the dealer on speed dial
soon the globe was on fire once again
shrapnel land mines and bombs delighted
as collateral damage took centre stage
on the playing field of tactical weapons
and strategic gambles with redundant lives
the machine was well oiled
and the vat split open
arms could be had without extra tax
a fat controller counted their profits
stock markets soared
and another proxy war reaped immeasurable benefits
piggy cockerel rat and cockroach
never tired off the onslaught
on the unending supply of cannon fodder
and were only too happy to send
a bit of humanitarian aid to hotspots
and built a few cemeteries for free
we must respect the dead
because they are the foundation
of our wealth and reason for being
Now see a fine display in market hall
Where fishmonger's stalls sell the freshest catch.
A world of wet white tiles and melting ice.
Seafood displayed, arranged in rank and file.
One Scottish salmon commands centre stage
Stretched out upon its own tray of crushed ice
And next to a few Icelandic haddock
Along with cod trawled from the Dogger Bank.
To one side are some plaice all flopped and flat.
Seems they are staring up with fixed focus.
A side display of small fry, placed parallel
And herrings heaped up in sad slump of grey.
Some calamari, tasteless rubbery squid
Are off stage with other seldom sold bits.
In the corner there's offal bin with heads,
Guts, skeletons and several layers of skin.
Take for your cat. Put pence in charity box.
A fine display we see in market hall.
Embrace the ending with new beginnings;
Notice the urgent movement that stirs here;
Deem storytelling in intent that springs;
Note hot and pungent the spicy forms clear.
Opt to weave magic despite life tragic;
Touch takes a sure swipe at moments that surge;
Enter dramatic to ease the squalid;
Sense each rancid gripe transformed with sure urge.
Allow your true self to take centre stage;
Love is the way forth as charm takes a walk;
Live your lovely self in lifestyle and page;
Use the path up north to walk your own talk.
Doing primes sure fit in all moments good;
Employ pun and wit to anchor your moods.
Leon Enriquez
16 May 2015
Singapore
Let's ponder last time Rego the ego was over yonder in the Iberico peninsula ..our hero was fonder of the wonder of Ronda but now does wander through the beauty & fruity booty that cutie Oporto does bestow… (in house joke...there is no radio embargo for this rhyming cargo so back to you in the studio)
Can't recall if we ever talked at all about how we virtually stalked Porto
A viral spiral as we did dream and scheme of moving there for a mo
Then balked too late deranged climate all changed mate too scorchio
Burned by the rage on the centre stage of a teenage tyro turned pyro
But what do you know ho ho ho…it's the Rego Ego in Oporto show
Jammy mutt strut out of any rut from Redditch hut far & away you yo yo
Smut of getting half cut a holiday foray glut such a sl*t.. a true pro or ho
But tut tut apropos bitter blow new shi**er low an at home sitter can't go
My career did park it… left the market now sign on for giro with my biro
Crow finances a foe.. so woe of ambassadors not in a row you flying solo
We should be tourers toe to toe explorers like Marco Polo with me in tow
As long as about assado not Fardo rather hear a song from Nelly Furtado
Naughtiness not haughtiness to and fro cheeky ebb & flow of going gung ho
Know your next photo will bring the frustration of a great crustacean crescendo
Gasping at the rasping sheen of a lean barbecued sardine no echo of Pinocchio
Ah grasping a calamari safari love the art deco but you can shove the prosecco
No braggadocio clasping fino or nerdy vinho verde or scarlet harlot starlet tinto
Hard for Euro aficionado as you scoff avocado & lardo tartlet from the mercado
Hope foody bingo is bravissimo dope & bellissimo though know is wrong lingo
So hey ho or nonny no bonny Rego in Porto is brassier than Portugeezer Luis Figo
Bigger teaser & pleaser classier than gusto & bravado of another dynamo Eusebio
Drinking sinking fort-ified wine quaff port like it's a sport holding court on the Douro
Envy piqued oh Rego never a fuddy duddy ruddy cheeked plucky bloody lucky so & so
Step into the picture of my life.
Take up your stance in the foreground
of my existence, smile for the camera.
Say 'cheese', 'sex', or whatever
it is one says these days to
depict the illusion of happiness.
Step off the side-line,
and stand in the centre with me.
The hangers-on belong out of focus.
Any false perception they create
deserves to remain in obscurity -
out of view. For the truth will out;
We tell it every day in our suspended
animation; in the delayed movement we
create when we hover on the stairs,
or when you pause to let me pass and touch
my arm; or when you hold my glance
with loving eyes. You belong with me.
Its not the words we say, but those
we don't that tell our story, so
step into my work in progress -
hold the pen with me, be part of my
calligraphy; form my sentences and
guide my hand as we write the next page...
take centre stage.
We are like a box of crayons
Diverse and unique
The difference is; crayons
Does not battle to be the best color in the box
They are content in creating a stunning picture
No matter if one color got preference over the other
We need to stop making life a competition
The joy of putting each other down
Last only as long as your effort is highlighted
Tomorrow something else takes centre stage
The only person left with the scar is the one you put down today
For your temporary moment in the limelight
Life is about more than that
@WN Neels 231120162003
Trump’s the promoter who doesn’t give an iota thumps Minnesota
Damnation of mongrel nation’s fascination with immigration quota
Each voter another boater sailing through every derailing floater
The ICE age rages on front pages centre stage masked Miami Vice
Tasked & asked by the elite to beat any Asian who likes some spice
Shoot at every protest hoot boot out any non caucasian eating rice
Murderous lice slice & splice US already killed not once but twice
Toted odd bods devoted to guns on roughshod runs promoted as Gods
The resident President nods doesn’t give a sod it’s all about the wads
Against the odds rogue vogue Rogan brogue bogan pods onward plods
Will erase poor prods with taser rods buried in clods by Death Squads
Bogus slogans in a country built to the hilt on colonial guilt a melting pot
This lot forgot that America should could be the ultimate cultural hot spot
Not a blot beast of vultures feast on have nots with the least & society’s rot
Paralysis whole country’s in ICU lies on dialysis then dies from a blood clot
Almighty Evangelical Angels delight at the trite blight as might's always right
Scorn despite being born here the fright at sight of friends stolen in the night
No respite from sworn spite of religious lite.. the colour of ICE is bright white
We know what they will do facts skew impacts broke folks of a different hue slew
Nothing new slate voodoo as focal local few hoodoo pacts imbue hate will spew
Whatever your view be vocal as you never know next in the queue could be you
Trolls with Christian souls still rue losing control.. last roll of the dice the ICE crew