Long Clever Poems
Long Clever Poems. Below are the most popular long Clever by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clever poems by poem length and keyword.
Now and again,
Vivid wit saves;
Mundane feeds plain
The dreary waves.
Here and there seed
Such edgy plots;
Crazy can feed
Both form and lot.
Routine chores fill
The moments here;
A weary will
Rubs away cheer.
Be willing now
To change old ways;
Rise then somehow
To greet new say.
Words can sparkle
With clever choice;
Worth can dazzle
With stylish poise.
Think a fond write
As feel funds lines;
Feel a clear cite
That flavours fine.
Be true to heart
That feels grand touch;
Begin and start
To echo much.
A vivid poise
Can style a pace;
A lovely voice
Can channel grace.
Leon Enriquez
26 January 2015
Singapore
I write poetry,
Simple poetry,
As simple as can be,
My grammar isn't hot,
Or my punctuality.
Sometimes I find it confusing,
When my pen flows easily,
It takes on a life of its own,
Taking control of me.
It has a sense of purpose,
As it scribbles away,
The content and message
Become as plain as day
I am unaware of holding the pen,
There isn't time to work it out
As off it goes again,
Effortlessly cavorting
All over the page,
Informative, reporting
Things humourous and sage
As I read the effort
My trusty quill has done
I salute this ink-filled implement
For it's the clever one!
Give me a thoughtful image
That I can reveal in black and white,
Or with tints and shades of colors
Using pastels, ink, or graphite.
Even the most common thing
Can seem to be introspective
When rendered with clever shading
Or seen from a different perspective.
Find me a new metaphor,
Or a novel unused simile—
Something like alliteration
To bring to life my poetry.
Help me write some plays on words,
Or a sentimental nuance,
That would appeal to those lovebirds
That see the world through the lens of romance.
Inspire me with lyrics
And clever rhymes that tell a story.
Then hum a new chord progression
That would support a melody.
Add guitar riffs and a hook
That surprise like an epiphany.
Bind them together like a book:
A multi-genre fusion symphony.
(Chorus)
Give me an idea worthy of a drawing, poem, or song;
Something inspiring enough to push creativity along.
Something interesting enough to fire the synapses in my brain.
Something provocative enough to make all stop and look again.
The clock in the Cabinet room struck midnight, then fear.
Each tick was a boot heel approaching the ear.
The map was a scar, turning red with the tide,
Where the promise of safety had nowhere to hide.
?A grey wind was blowing from a continent lost,
And the price of defiance was more than the cost
Of the gold in the vault or the ships on the sea,
But the spirit itself, and the will to be free.
?Bleakness approached, a cold, heavy rain,
It dampened the resolve, it clouded the brain.
They spoke of détente, of peace that could be,
A whisper of surrender across the dark tea.
The weight of the world, a stone in one's hand,
The choice of one man for a beleaguered land.
The generals murmured of odds too severe,
The end of an empire drawing too near.
?But a roar was awakened beneath the dull dread,
Not a bullet, but words the old lion had bred.
No smooth, subtle logic, no clever defense,
But a will unyielding, a terrible sense
Of the final last stand, and the duty defined,
To leave no stone unturned, no honor behind.
?What saves you is the memory of who you must be.
The grit in the mouth of the common decree.
The fisherman, the factory hand, and the clerk,
Refusing to bow in the perilous dark.
?The challenge was faced by that voice, rough and deep,
That told the tired nation it never could sleep.
And the island stood firm, not on metal or might,
But the strength of a spirit that welcomed the fight
Death is the ultimate equalizer
who can't be bribed, bullied, or corrupted.
And He's an impartial sympathizer
when pain progresses uninterrupted:
and all your hopes and dreams get disrupted.
Who would want tyrants to live forever
without consequences for what they've done?
By forcing change, Death is very clever
in providing justice for everyone;
as Mother Nature's obedient son.
Within the mystical trappings of Death,
Faith touts promises of eternal peace.
And so, after breathing our final breath;
we will either witness our soul's release:
or, our self-awareness will simply cease.
Hotel love
I arrived at the uploaded village in the north, which had once been
a working hamlet, until famous people bought property there.
More people followed, as did estate agents the parish became
an in-place with posh cafes and restaurants with French names
where the original inhabitants could not afford to live in what was
left was a postcard idyll and a fake Tudor.
As I was booking in when my ex-girlfriend burst in full of eager talk
she was going to a restaurant where a well know singer would
appear and do as singers do sing.
In the right light and clever make-up, she looked about 37
it happened; I knew she was 54 but was not going to tell.
A young man she called darling carried her leather suitcase.
I was here to visit my daughter, her two noisy children and
her husband, who spoke of investment and paying taxes.
I ate wiener schnitzel, drank a bottle of wine, and served
by a woman dressed in a sexed-up folkloric costume
went to bed; my ex-girlfriend had a room next to mine
made a clamour when she arrived with her young man,
but after a while, things simmered down.
In the morning, when she came down for breakfast, she
as alone, not for her to let a lover see her in the morn
I called her name and asked her to sit with me and drank
coffee, her hands trembled, needed a drink but
I got her to eat a croissant.
Up in my room, drink in hands, she had a moment
of clarity, my life is a mess, she said it is your fault
for getting old and bald; slept in my bed for hours
getting up, going to her room to put on her young face.
I didn’t get to see my daughter and her children
had to drive my exes home before she got into
more trouble.
They were bright little elves, mischievous but good
creative as can be known as gnomes of the North Pole
Santa's sleigh began to slow so they did all they could
the spirit-meter read low and it could not run on coal,
so they filled it with hot cocoa and a tad of faithful gist.
Intuitive as heck they decked the workshop halls with glee
knowing very well insightful Santa could smell a foul tree
But then before the big old flight, he asked a ninny elf
"why do you smell like chocolate boy? "make a note to self"
it was then that Santa doubted but heh the presents come first!
Off he went with a bag of toys as the elves made so much noise
clever little beings that they were, they all waved with poise
Up the chimney down the chimney the sleigh just ran and ran
hot on the trail of children's hopes it flew with a yes I can .
Santa saw that the spirit-meter was low and full of thirst
He thought and thought, and then he saw a chocolate leak
dripping down his boot, he knew, the elves had had a peek
but when he saw the joy on the children's faces in a dream
he knew that his magic elves were geniuses of their realm
and he was glad they got the sled to fly, with a cocoa burst.
That Ancient Darkside of All Hallows’ Eve Past
As in the fabled medieval times of centuries in the deep past,
It’s time once again to celebrate the hidden ugly horror that
Seeks to infest and devour all human souls in this new century.
Be warned that false-faced beggars shall knock at each door,
And unbeknownst to the common people that they shall meet
On this All Hallows’ Eve—all shall not be well and normal!
With their bloodstained masks these real Ghosts, Ghouls and
Goblins shall shout out “Trick or Treat” as a fiend’s true cover
For something that’s sordid, unclean, ungodly, and macabre.
Looking for a clever sweet surprise for the unsuspecting souls,
These devilish minions begin gathering and dancing wildly to
“The Dark Spirit of the Pale Hallowed Moon” on this night!
Shawled with the darkness of souls and their living nightmares,
Ghastly silver phantoms now seek to scare the living-death out
Of every innocent person they encounter on this darkest eve.
Houses are marked by an eerie orange-pumpkin-light escaping
Into the dancing-dark shadows that hold all night-life precious,
As these phantoms move freely in the frigid breath of this night!
Creating a palpable angst they begin shaking the tree branches as
Horrid and terrifying spirits of true evil and witchcraft escape into
The cold-dark ether caught up in the vile magic of Lucifer himself.
Fortunately, they are tricked by the sound of an old tune playing a
Heavenly paean for knowing “What's Right From What’s Wrong,”
And warning them that the wrath of Almighty God awaits them!
In the end, the absolute power and holy majesty of Almighty God
Served as the saving grace to this foul situation which threatened
The innocent souls who were ensnared by these unholy phantoms.
And so, if thou doth question the probity of what hath been related to
You in this sacred narrative, then thou shall risk forfeit of your soul,
As these evil phantoms lurketh ever in the shadows and never forget!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – October 19, 2018
(Tercet)
To replace - my cost of my call
I made this big card, special
for my sweet heart's, with all
my love, I do scribe for you...
Valentine's Day is special for a few
sending my love on our special day,
is so very difficult for me to do
for our Valentine's doesn't come any
sweeter or nicer than you...
Here in Nam it’s hard to bare,
too, share my missing you
a phone just won’t do I fear
So too…
I made this bag card, special,
my sweetest heart's, all of you
with all my love reserved
you’ll receive my card it's true
All, with my 'red imprint' of
my lips, for what I’d rather do
I have scribbled Michelle,
Angela, Mom too...
A clever poem for all my love
you all, along with this cleaver
Red "two lips"
Instead of flowers
STILL KICKING
I've got this smile on my face,
tears rolling down my check, but I ant apologetic about it,
not bluffing though I hear buzzing sounds, being very busy I remain unhinge,
can't be knock off balance though through distractions the enemy
tried to lay sigh via smoky screens, I'll still stay here to slough it out till the end.
I know you need attention, time to be together with
but hey man am sorry meet me there if you can,
though the strides if my steps sliding,
being slice up like a broken glass now my face squeezing
but men I ant frowning.
Hearing the heaves on my chest,
felling like am losing though am still in front,
floating on forming waters
not certain whether I'll make it to the end cause is getting darker by the day
nothing worse than this black cloud above my head.
like a bubble gum pooping I felt so expose, fallen many times
but I've got to stand up and try a new approach cause is not over,
so I roll up my sleeves, whoa, blow off the dust,
feeling the fire on my heels but an not about to kneel
cause the big concern blazing on my chest,
I'll keep moving, following the footprint of the one with the blue print,
not slacken my grips nay, can't fail now cause I've got you'll on my mind
and I know you're watching. Certainly I'll have change in the midst of this ugly split, regardless of how it goes down life goes on,
feeling like am starting all over yeah no doubt
but am counting on the fact that God is faithful,
though am clever, I'll never be under the fever to think I'll succeed someday;
my time is now.
Reminiscing on the journey so far I confess,
am the designer of my own path,
making spotless decision is my predictable routine,
Jehovah has turned my life over
and now am unashamed cause his blood has wash away all my sins.
Am super turned up,
God did not consider my errors I guise that's why some folks are jealous,
I'll keep on though my feet's heavy my mind stayed on winning
everything regardless am still kicking you know it's time for kinging,
if you're following am still leading,
hearing yelling's behind but I stand tall I ant bragging,
you all know it am all out for the best, can't be frazzle
still kicking with my dudes, and guise what they're all tripping.