Long Chronological Poems

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


Strike While the Iron Is Hot

Cuz while ya steel got
moxie, don't nix chance if only a dot
before death finds 
     flesh rotting alot.

A self-actualized fringe benefit
     as I racked up
     orbitz round sun -
     with increased measured,
     (albeit neglected) ragged, and
     shot thru tattered (turn shroud) -
     regarding chronological yardage
brought to my dimming wattage -

sputtering third eye blind, sans
     hindsight surveying extensive
     emotionally frenzied groveling with
     a lifetime penitential wreckage,
whence urgent critical (update)
     foisted upon formerly entrenched
     hermetically sealed voyage -
sequestered self wrought fallout,

     viz long stretches of 
     time irretrievably gone with the wind
     found me averse toward
     commingling with village -
peopled within sin king
     precincts of Lake Woebegone
     joyus kneaded livingsocial 
     natives, now visa

     vis (nee this past
     and present atheist)
     discovered the healing power
     of powder milk biscuits,
     when accommodated within Norwegian
     bachelor farmer vicarage),
qua pained obligation now
     imposed kickstarted mandate

     to pay dying wage
clearly written along,
     the sub weighted psyche walls
     (over time) easily read
     across my wrinkled visage,
where former cumulative
     years of existence
     pitched yours truly

     figuratively teetering upon
     precipice of abyss gave vantage
     written in telltale creases
     countenance spelling umbrage,
against me - asper tonnage
     schlepping psychological Matthew
     Scott Harris "baggage,"
wrought from decades

     worth of uncultivated tillage
cuz n'er did I gather rosebuds...
     during prime mortal teenage
stretch, thus present
     day agonizing suffrage
yawning chasm miserably houses
     bleak (Dickensian) testimony,
     sans recovered anorexic

     (NO...NOT... NEVER 
     bulimic), but feebly
     endured desultory stage
punctuated quasi (moat)
     towed riddled rattle trap ship
     of state into deadly scrimmage
defies propped up 
     moxie succombing unrelenting
 
     weathering, unforgiving savage
nasty, brutal and short sabotage,
wherein futile - short 
     changed growh opportunities 
     forfeited developmental stage
opportunities introverted 
     vehemence doth rage.


Premium Member Living Ex-Presidents

43 American presidents since our founding.                                                                                                                                      Living history, alive and well in 5 living ex-presidents.                                                                                                                                  If individually good enough to become a US president,                                                                                what could they accomplish as collective and unified minds?
Are they not a treasure house of history, wisdom, and experience?                      
***********************************************************
*Mr. Carter(1976-80) He was a successful peanut farmer, and a Governor.                                                                                                 Now, a brief condensed version of his 4 year presidency: Change the heart; Being born again; Tell no lies; Surprised at The Soviet Union for invading Afghanistan; Fought hard for peace in the Middle East and won the Noble Peace Prize, but lost the Peace; Iran: Could not bring the hostages home.  
**********************************************************                                                                                                                                               
Five ex presidents, still alive to shape, to show, and to tell their own story.                                                                                     And their own history of 4 to 8 years is part of the same history of America.                                                                       Are they not also a collective institution, a museum, as well as a library?                                                              Away from the Oval Office, are they being utilized for the cause of peace?
*********************************************************    **Mr. Bush 1(1988-92) And now, a brief condensed version of his 4 year Presidency: New World Order; Read my lips; No New Taxes; Manuel Noriega;  Panama; Saddam Hussein; Iraq And Desert Storm.
*************************************************************
09222017 PS 
*The listing order of Presidents is purely chronological 
**Mr. Reagan followed Mr. Carter, but he is not a living ex-president

Li Na Tennis Superstar

Li Na Tennis Champion

Asians in general sat up to take notice when from the vastness of China arose a tennis great…
Never mind it was a she, and at an advanced chronological ripe old age of almost touching 30…

Li Na from China was one well travelled tennis star, her world accolades coming in very late…
When many a famous players were thinking of retiring in fatigue, she upped her game to the level elite..

First and only Asian to win a Grand Slam Singles title, she was a ripe old 29 when it happened…
Many more  illustrious tennis professionals have long gone to pasture before reaching 29 or after…

But not Li Na the most famous professional tennis player from China,  the most illustrious  too..
2011 French Open Champion at age 29 followed in 2 years later , 2014 Australian Open at age 32…

Now , if one were to check up on China’s most famous tennis daughter, Wikipedia has it all …
It chronicles in fascinating details the checkered career of this badminton reject since she was small…

An astute  coach suggested she had best switch from the ever popular racket game called badminton…
In that big nation of badminton crazies all over, it must have hurt to be ejected from badminton… 

But her excellence in tennis was astonishing to say the least, by 1997 she was in the  national team…
Incredibly, she was then only a teenage at fifteen when China drafted her into her National team…

Two years later, in 1999 following a 10 months stint sponsored by Nike, Li Na turned professional…
Her rocky path to be a successful professional was camouflaged by her many ITF numerous titles…

However, she quit the National team in 2002, going on to complete a Bachelor of Journalism in 2009..
This was another cap in her journey to tennis success, an academic complement to her tennis prowess…

From the barrage of numerous first evers for this Chinese tennis phenomenon until her retirement..
It is obvious she was a tennis prodigy who happened to come from the far east to tennis fans' amazement...

For further readings of Li Na, the most famous Chinese phenomenon in woman professional tennis …
Do a Google search and feel amazed at the massive write up about China’s most famous daughter in tennis..


     https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Li_Na

     Or Look out for Li Na Superstar Part 2
Form: Narrative

~ Gypsy Bride ~

Ocean tides
Still frames
Flicking like cards
A sea of lives
Shuffling, them
In her hands
Chronological
Chromatic, aberrations
The years
That have come and gone
Silent
Still frames
Wanting to breathe
Their life, into me
Black and white
Once again
Flashing colours
Lights
Rushing tides
A deck of cards
'A Gypsy Bride'
One by one
She turns
"And 
This 
Is
Your life"
Familiar faces
In the crowd
Smiling 
Waving
And then their gone....
Eyes
Staring
Beyond 
The tide
Distant skies
Still frames
A deck of cards
Inside, my mind
Tents and banners
Black and white
Colourful lights
Carnival rides
"This, this is your life"
'A Gypsy Bride'
Voices and laughter
Years, like the wind
Shuffling
Them 
In
Her hands
Once again
Trying to breathe
Their life
Their life, into me....
Ocean tides
A sea of lives
A crystal ball
'A Gypsy Bride'
Familiar faces
And smiling eyes
"This
This is your life"
"What do you see?"
I speak
Glancing, beyond the seas
Staring, beyond the tides
A deck of cards
'A Gypsy Bride'
"Show me your palms"
She whispers
"Today, they'll collide
The past 
The future
Your dreams
This, is your life"
One more time
Trying to breathe
Its breath, its life
Inside, of me....
"What do you see?"
"What, did you see?"
Smiling
A deck of cards
Shuffling
Them in her hands
My hands
Chronological
Chromatic, aberrations
The years
Silent
Movie reels
Black and white
Colourful lights
Banners and tents
And carnival rides
A crystal ball
An upturned palm
"This, is your life
Enjoy the sights"
A deck of cards
Familiar faces
Making
My way
Through the crowd
Alone
Alone, now
Staring, at the tide
The tide, through time....
'Gypsy'
'My Gypsy'
'My Gypsy Bride'
Smiling
Distant eyes
Beyond the skies
"This, is your life" 
She whispers
As she puts her arm
She puts her arm
About my side
"Wonderful isn't it?"
She says
"Here
Pick a card
Any card"
Ocean tides
A sea of lives
Dreams
And
Precious eyes
Lives....
Beautiful
Years gone by
Still frames
Still
In my mind
Carnival rides
Colourful lights
Moments in time
"Ten dollars please"
She smiles
She whispers
My arm 
About
Her side
"This, is your life"
"But I only have five"
..........."My"...........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ 'Gypsy Bride' ~
Form:

Premium Member The Celebration Continues

I wished you a Happy Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with merriment and laughter
and now I wish you Happy December 26 the less well known…day after.

(If you are from the United Kingdom or Canada…put this poem away
You have solved December 26th’s dilemma by celebrating Boxing Day)

But in America December 26 is a day that attempts to be brave and save face
for it knows it could have been a holiday but had to settle for second place.

Yes, I’m afraid December 26 in history is fated to remain unreckoned.
doomed to stand in relative obscurity with its neighbor January 2nd.

Today I celebrate all those days who because of their chronological lateness
are destined to travel down the path of history...one day away from greatness.

Do you know the name of the first man on the moon? Of course, everybody does.
But do you remember the second, Ed Aldrin, his friends and family called him Buzz.

We remember Edmund Hillary, the first to scale Mt. Everest, the first to find his way
but who remembers, Tenzing Norgay, the sherpa who accompanied him that day?

They climbed the tallest mountain in the world but the second is almost as high
Yet K-2 is only an afterthought, kind of like the 5th of July.

We remember Snow White as the first movie Disney brought to the silver screen
but the second, Pinocchio must take its place next to the innocuous March 18.

Everyone knows Amelia Earhart, her story is one of courage and devotion
She was the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean.

The second was Geraldine Mock, at her even more accolades were hurled
for she kept going after crossing the Atlantic, and flew around the world.

Isn’t it funny how life works, for none of us could have foreseen 
that Geraldine would be disregarded in history like the day after Halloween.

But such is the way the calendar unfolds from January to December
Some days, like people, are destined for greatness while others we hardly remember.

I think it’s time we change all that and give these days and people their due.
for I believe second places and day afters deserve a home in our hearts too.

So hold your head up December 26th…you have no reason to whine…
After all you could come around only once every 4 years….
my condolences to February 29.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse


Highlights From Highland Manor

since becoming housed here since this year
july first two thousand and seventeen, 
   tubby more precise where
with thee missus, amidst bucolic environs, 
   (one could don underwear

Schwenksville, Pennsylvania   
   trees abundant with leaves of grass spare
zip cone: one nine four seven three, 
   this resident doth not find *****

disproportionate amount of time, 
   he spends never to overhear
the mostly soundproof walls 
   inside apartment b44 assigned midyear, 

one bedroom living social space 
   gives ample opportunity to assess linear
ratcheting asper elderly folks inch along 
   chronological space/time continuum 
   fragile as jasperware  

many experience diminution 
   of vital sensory organs, and oft time cannot hear
even without television blasting away, 
   no doubt harboring anticipatory anxiey sans, 

   grim reaper's unannounced visit they fear
their non verbal body language 
   (when aye espy and stride-rite past, 
   an old lady or man riding shot gun 
   securely strapped in wheel chair, 
   shuffling back where buffalo used to roam, 
   or trudging to common all purpose gathering place)
 
   speaks volumes analogous to a frightened deer
when caught blindsided 
   within bright lights of an automobile 'ere
unsure which way to go, and dashing out in the thick 
   of evening rush hour traffic, 

   lacking notion, the figurative coast not clear
subsequently doe ting bucks killed, where birds of prey 
   thence loftily circle gracefully   
   gliding within upper atmospheric air
page number two:

upon scrutinizing what doth appear
as a hollowed out existence induces me to de clear
to maximize utilizing each precious moment 'ere
before each major metaphorical cog and gear
frankly zaps, this dude looks like a lady, 
   cuz ah ma longish bedraggled hydrogen peroxide tinted hair
me haint give a rats ass 
   what rumor mongers relish, and behind me back jeer

Since old people lack for purposefulness tis unlike to leer
that one day (fast as snap of fingers), lack of being ambulatory t'will be near
and upon limitation in physical functionality, aye aim to app pear
motivated to partake of mental exercises just sitting on me rear.

Overdosing Rather Binge Reading Thesaurus

Overdosing (rather binge reading) thesaurus...

Imagine if ye will
earlier one blustery February sixteenth
two thousand twenty one,
yours truly experienced atypical thrill
perusing pages of heavily laden word book
marking where I leave off reading
courtesy no frills inked quill
(sold to yours truly courtesy original 
big bird on his deathbed)

plus jotting down page number
so mundane effort to marry me interest
with me lingua franca (English language)
neither void nor nill
aforementioned laborious literary task
persevered despite forgoing
eating and sleeping might kill
(reading every last word)

hoop ping diligence improves vocabulary
making me maxillary stronger
no matter chronological years
considered smidgen whipping
over third scored Sam Hill
Earth orbitz around nearest star
traveling at (pun one mach two)

warp speed amidst escadrille
whereby accompanying aircraft
eventually zooms into Brazil
housing disproportionate Amazon
rainforest biome encompassing
6.7 million square kilometers and shared
by eight countries.

Even before (the square root of 3844)
years ago exiting the womb
Logophile mine self anointed
nom figuratively feathery de plume
no matter mine cranium
ready to explode ka-boom
I continue to parlay mental energy

like some garden variety harum scarum
and jam additional minutiae
(at thee expense not preserving sanity)
despite very limited (maximum) headroom
to decrease hydranencephaly
the whole hare brain scheme
rigged up with shunted
(think chutes and ladders) flume.

One definite lament
until death doth do me proud
constitutes deficient intelligence
genetically (father) endowed
imbibing cerebral thirst for knowledge
constitutes the lack of photographic memory
nsync with fifty plus shades of gray matter
ofttimes smoldering like dark storm cloud
to retain information I read aloud.

Quite an exciting 
(seat of pants) life I did asseverate
less to impress any anonymous reader,
whose interest I did pique and captivate
versus (verses crafted) more so to delineate
quirky passion (couched as poetic endeavor)
inexplicable how to formulate
though no justification be given
hoop fully only kudos to generate.
Form: Rhyme

Unshakable Psychic Seizures Quakes Oh Man

(no matter extreme global 
     warming more dire,
then cursing me smoldering 
     infernal languishing spitfire.)

Shade did adolescent
     facade drifts asunder
asper...a major emotional blunder
shielding sensitive myopic eyes
     against  quashed
     then young life, never 
     ordinarily gathering rose buds,
    now I always wonder.

No, never so much
     as a feeble arc
unable to issue even a light bark
unresponsive as a
     cold bunsen burner,
nor can Clark
Kent marshal superman,
     thus vital willpower

     bleak and dark
within thine body electric
     as mine life 
     journey doth embark
completing protracted orbit
whar raging self against time
     strikes into metaphorical abysmal pit

continuing charade of 
     existence or quit
before chronological demise
     decrees death to be writ
once flickering enthusiastic
     willpower to be alive
snuffed livingsocial esprit de corps
     elan forcibly crushed,

     sans kamikaze nose dive,
when psychological arc
     tangentially crossed figurative bee hive
aswarm with countless
     invisible poisonous stingers
     pierced late mine boyhood
asper razor sharp cutting knives

     brandished by figures
     shrouded within dark hood
whar bent gnarled fingers
     grabbed and wood

not let go stranglehold
of thine curse canst atone
weak prepubescent unlovely skeletal bone
sinister voices still faintly heard,
     within me noggin drone
like angry thundering birds
     as anorexic starved

     flesh didst groan,
now that fragile adolescent
     boy within me revisits
     haunting this middle aged
     married man, whose moan
more nsync with countless 
     stifled mailer daemons
     entombed akin to rigor mortis,

     viz complex Oedipus prone
a wander lost young lad,
     who left every mouldering stone
unturned - fearing unleashing
     def finning tone

     even to this very dusky moment
     of my damned charade
fresh with painted fore
     sight groping blindly
     within outer limits
     of the twilight zone.

While Rummaging Thru Papers To Shred

While rummaging thru papers to shred...

Earlier this November fourth
two thousand and nineteen
your truly long in the tooth 
(er...in dentured) wordsmith
rifled thru miscellaneous papers to shred
unwittingly chancing upon

report cards enlightening me,
academic, emotional, social...
characteristics, née significant
figurative "red flags,"
(no not signifying me being blacklisted
re: guarding Communism taking root)

rather teacher's comments
signaled moderate behavioral crisis,
where bass and treble clef acronyms
“Good Boys Do Fine Always”
"every good boy does fine"
respectively analogously noteworthy

(namesake Matthew Scott Harris)
because a lad (in) attendance at:
following primary grade schools:
Audubon Elementary, Eagleville,
and Henry Kline Boyer)
exhibited crushing arduousness

nsync with chronically
profound inability to
acclimate, integrate, participate...
spelling academic difficulty,
alienation, isolation, resignation...
said pronounced mental, physical,

and social perturbations
compounded manifold when promoted
regardless abysmal failing marks
most likely congenital,
vital intervention absent
absolute zero doubt

developmental delay debuted,
since youngest daughter
twenty one February 4th, 2020
diagnosed soon after birth
within autistic spectrum
intervention luckily bridged
yawning, looming, gaping... cleft

less apparent to non family,
she functions admirably
employed at World Market
while enrolled at Bend, Oregon
Community College
relieved healthy maturation
courtesy ability appropriate

custom tailored, (not necessarily swiftly,
nor styled harriedly)
confidence building academic assignments
need based (cost free) tutoring
wrap around at our home,
based speech pathology,

Montgomery County Hospital,
acquiring driver's license,
progressing positively (think)
chronological milestones achieved
mostly on target

boosting self esteem, worthiness
validating benefits, viz palliative care
side stepping severe suicidal
tendency unlike her papa
who permanently stunted his growth.

Daylight Savings Time November 6th 2016

Hour hands clock back sixty minutes of Autumn
Round about this same of month every year, what a bum
er, and inconvenient truth diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over 
   sans yesteryear doth drum
a sensation of jet lag (with earth in the balance) 
   as if flying within time machine at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride invariably finds me 
   feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme, nor be leer re: cull 
   juiced barely tantamount to gather scattered wits 
   sin tide, and express mood as hoe hum

fortunate, this chronological seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kempf cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics 
   comb pluck hated off jangling black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and booring into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement for emergency convoy, when pitched from
sea to figurative shining sea – gram ma mother earth glum
where live yikyak wired vanguard trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down behavioral sink went – me mum
bling bloviation, once worth matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass of temporary confusion, where plumb 
line delineating circadian rhythm offset, when athwart pilot rum
man strait ting and bickering with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans defiantly thumb

ming nose, where body, mind & soul weeknd viz a bully did cower
hence mister clock, who got high-jacked 3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs, which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace, resoundingly surrendered, 
   and back slid vis a vis space/time continuum did devour.

Black hole event horizon indeed kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers 
   counter point of view shifted to oppose this minute accord.

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