Long Clocked Poems
Long Clocked Poems. Below are the most popular long Clocked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clocked poems by poem length and keyword.
the giant had been stomping through the town &
for years the townspeople would run to their meager dwellings
to escape his wrath,
for one never knew when he would strike them
or steal from them.
his moods being so unpredictable &
with no one to stop him,
he did as he pleased---
terrorizing the towns he’d make his way through,
keeping them in fear &
keeping them in check.
but one day a rock came flying from an area in the trees &
it struck the giant in the head---
though he didn’t fall,
he had been clocked pretty hard &
he turned quickly to dish out some choice violence
upon s/he who had thrown the rock.
however,
there was no one in the forest when he went charging through &
for him,
this was a great shock,
because it was the first time that he’d ever been hit by anyone,
much less an enemy who got away---
he had been deprived of retaliation.
though the bump on his noggin was large,
he did make it back to that down in time &
as he was stealing food from the house of a family that had fled in
horror,
he was hit again,
this time it happened to pelt him in the eye &
draw blood.
when his eye started to gush,
he turned, now disoriented &
not able to see clearly---
as he was wavering,
more rocks started to come from his left & right side,
hitting him all over his body---
while at first, it didn’t hurt that bad,
the onslaught began to draw blood all over him,
until finally he got on his knees to try & curl up in a ball---
the giant did roar &
it was louder than anything the inhabitants of the town had ever heard,
but the rocks did not stop coming.
soon, he had to lay down in a fetus position,
which as you might imagine was quite amusing to anyone watching,
for a giant in a fetus position is not something that one gets to see often---
still,
the rocks kept coming---
there were large ones,
small ones,
sharp ones &
rocks that split off in pieces when they hit his body---
they all came on like his own personal hurricane
developed just for him
to repay him for years of
stealing & fearmongering.
no matter how hard he tried to focus his one good eye,
he couldn’t make out where all the rocks were coming from---
all he knew was that they hurt more & more
as the attack continued.
eventually,
though he did his best to cover his head,
the rocks smashed his skull so hard that his brains oozed out like
pudding &
the giant was dead---
so
very
dead.
Sophomore year’s clocked-up my free time. Last summer I made some core promises (to my mom) to go harder on the pre-med track. Perfect grades are ok, I’m told, but they’re underdog, alone. So, this year, my “spare” time is split between hospital volunteering and a (nominally) paid research project. The goal of all this hustle is to pad my resume up, as proffer, for a 2025 med school slot. I’ve never felt so observed, judged and weekend-less, but playas gotta play.
Last week, Peter (let’s call him my BF) was invited to some random alumni event. He wasn’t excited about it, but he thought, “Ooo, free meal.” Actors and doctoral students are all about free food. Then, after he signed onto it, they told him the group was going, by train to Washington DC, on an overnight trip (all expenses paid) where they’d visit the White House and meet the President.
They took the train through New York and down to DC arriving late at night and then they had to meet in the lobby, the following morning, at 7am to get COVID tested for the White House. He said the White House experience, and the meet-and-greet seemed surreal. While he didn’t get to meet Joe, he shook Jill Biden’s hand, and in a parting, fog-headed moment, suggested she “have a good one.” (Hopefully, she did.)
As an extra, on the way back, at union station in DC, they heard gunshots and there were a few tense moments where they saw people in the station (outside the train) running about in panic. Eventually, security pronounced everything safe. A man WAS shot in the foot but that passes for a calm night in DC. All-in-all the event and train travel made for an exhausting trip for poor Peter.
Bizz, BIZZ-BIZZ-BIZZ At first, the alarm sound seemed unreal and unimportant. I opened my eyes and through my three, open dorm windows, I could see stars still flickering busily, like light off of so much broken glass. “What?” I mumbled.
“I have to go,” Peter said drowsily, as he kissed my forehead, “it’s getting early.”
It seemed I blinked, and he was gone. After he left, I woke up several times. The silence seemed heavy, almost solid and it easily pressed me back into sleep.
.
slang:
clocked-up = busied-out
core promises = inescapable swears
underdog = expected to lose
Proffer: “present (something) for acceptance.”
weekends = a mythical time to catch up*
I walked outside in the scorching heat moving papers and turning over pages just looking for that one line that goes back to the middle ages. The search was long, the documents were strong and the paragraph sits at the bottom with the exact words about the controversial land. Moses was deceased, Joshua was bequeathed and mimiram joined the crew when her leprosy
came through.
I traveled to Vatican City to view the writing form the thirteenth century there were piles and piles of them standing in a row but I had nowhere to go and I could not move any of them.
I had to view them with a magnifying glass or the whole thing would have fallen apart .I walked along the Vatican city underground and there were museums all around with documents that goes back to the creation of the earth but they were all sealed up in dirt.
Something caught my eyes from the back and I continue to move my eyeball over the lines to see what historical data I could find. I just wanted to fit the pieces together until I could uncover the secrecy, and just when I thought my long search was done a cockroach crawl up from the corner and there it was staring at me, the very line that illustrate my dignity. A thousand cameras pointed at me from every angle, I could not touch or move a thing until the vessel I had memorized the plaintiff hymn.
The Priest kept juggling on the floor and the Roman soldiers keep asking for more, the theater was where it all began with a harp a violin and a harmonica riding on the gondola and singing a song. They were all playing for me as the discovery breaks the bonds of history to uncover an age-old mystery, the authentic crowd docked on the other side while I continue to hold up my pride and the gondola drift.
I try to fit the piece together so I went on a hurricane ride and landed in Peru and made my way to the city of Cuzco to connect the dots and explore the salt mine of maras and when I got what I wanted I made my way to France and visit the Mount Blanc and made a bond with Eifel tower. When the research was over, I clocked in nine hundred million dollars for a Zig Zag line and a marking on a cave that was divine.
And so the evidence was right in front of me to prove the murder in the first degree and a global fraud in the second degree. You must make haste and come and see me.
~I Wanted You to Stay~
In The Mood For Romance Contest
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Walking in the hallways, day after day...
That look we both locked, and since that day,
I knew I wanted you...
-To stay...
I never believed in love at first sight...
Until that day I saw you pull up, my soul in flight,
Walking into school, and you walking into... my life.
So young, yet so deep,
Having a hard time falling asleep.
Do you fantasize of me?
My illusions, so intense,
But there's never a guarantee.
I was lost...it was you,
Redeeming my unpleasant qualities.
Believing my narrative emotions,
Me clinging onto your devotion,
Will it always be this way?
I knew I wanted you...
-To stay...
Hands held in crowds,
And kisses on my cheek,
Intertwined roots growing into a lilac bush,
Lavender so fresh,
Scents of summer so sweet,
Driving no where and everywhere,
together...
First date, chills up my spine,
God please, forever,
I've never felt so much pleasure.
Classmates so jealous,
Our confidence never silenced,
So much older than me,
Who can ever deny us?
Proving them wrong,
So far beneath us,
Underground and all around,
Before you my heart was buried,
In the lost and found.
All it took was one saving grace,
I knew I wanted you...
To stay...
Created from one glance,
As you walked into your class,
Your jaw dropped, my heart sank,
Your sincerity, hope to last,
No breathing, mind completely blank,
Pretending not to obsess,
My never ending hour glass,
You being you, me being me,
Us being us, meeting by the maple tree,
Could you be the one?
Would you live only for me?
Constructed abstract drawings,
Paintings from the 1st century,
Before time was clocked,
And after miles we walked,
My sentiment everlasting,
Sidewalks full of chalk...
Teenagers with eager anticipation,
Future full of high expectations,
You brought me such a beautiful bouquet,
Oh how I hope with me...
-You'll stay.
Date Written: November 21, 2015
Black and blue boo boo bruises courtesy hurled Bobo box
No matter I sustained multiple contusions about the face and neck and minor head concussion after the missus tossed an unopened box of five apple pie stuff'd oat bites in my direction (what got whisked - as clocked by yours truly at lightspeed), nevertheless (whew), no permanent damage prevailed regarding the cherished goods.
While recuperating in the hospital bed,
I decided to craft incident report,
(yet refuse to implicate the missus)
quickly letting fingers
skitter across keyboard
couched with divine intervention,
cuz yours truly nearly got declared dead,
thus the following words quickly typed
before creative juices fled
despite skeptical readers,
who might immediately deduce
that I rightly ought to be
declared out of my talking head
thankful caring empowered
stalwart connections qua invaluable friends
gifted with emergency lifeline when pitted
with suicidal ideations, predilections,
utilizations fostering existential crisis,
hence resilience taught to thwart
self harmful and hurtful modus operandi
thru the dogma, ethos,
and faith of worthiness
and in remembrance of JED,
(whose founders lost
above mentioned son to suicide),
thus inadvertently halting epidemic,
whereby teens and young adults
offered mental health resources
by building resiliency and life skills,
promoting social connectedness,
and encouraging help-seeking
and help-giving behaviors
through nationally recognized programs,
digital channels, and partnerships,
as well as through the media
spreading the word
to cope against desire to annihilate self
(think nihilistic existentialism)
receiving immediate access
to forge an excellent outlook
reliable material broadcast
across social media platforms
exemplifying and identifying linkedin
ingenious and innovative modus operandi
such as promulgating hotline
flown like the goodyear blimp
videre licet zeppelin made of lead
clearly displaying credo
(which unfortunately never came to my aid -
just another statistic courtesy anorexia nervosa)
summed up as Ned:
A character education program that uses a cartoon character named NED to promote kindness and excellence in schools. NED is an acronym for "Never give up, Encourage others, and Do your best".
It was late in the afternoon, it must of been about an hour that I had arrived
As I took the first step into the facility already I felt my body overwhelmed by chills
I stripped to the nude, and I felt as if the scene had touched me all over, their sight belittled me
I stood wearing nothing, eyes set their sight upon me, for they saw a criminal with no heart
They made me dress in orange
Full jump suit and feather-light slippers
I was escorted to my cell
Upon arrival I met my cell mate, Peter
The walls seemed to take life and spoke
Words of death I came to understand, and I feared for my mind
Insane I was going, for I began to hear voices of sorrow and broken hearts
The walls caved in almost and I felt death's grasp on my back
The clock ticked and ticked, every second seemed to turn into hours
Locked up where no where to go I recalled all of my fair memories
When the sun once caressed my face, lips and dreams
An animal I had become for nothing mattered behind those bars
"Lights out" and my heart grew weak
Not knowing of how to react, I began to see death as an answer
For if I died I would not have to live as a caged animal
Dark, lights had been out for an hour and again my eyes betrayed me
I saw thousands of spirits walking the empty halls
A million snoring souls slept
It smelled like death was walking among the spirits of the deceased
An awful sight, and I was trapped in it for the next 15 years
It was now the next day and I stood inline for food
Color was all inside
Brown I am for that was my ticket to group
Called horrible things, same sex predators all savored to my soft face
It was shower time and I grew in very much fear
As 100 men walked in nude to shower
I fresh meat
I couldn't bare it, so I entered not
I met my cell mate again in the recreation room
And all was learned
I was to be jumped in
And if I lived I would be graduation day
The clocked ticked it was again 7:45pm
My heart was beating really slow now
The men came into my cell with chains and bats
Guards stood idly by to my screams of fear
I saw a bright light in all the blows I was taking
I was drowning in my own blood
An angels hand took me out of my body
The clock ticked 8pm, may I rest in peace
Woke up this morning with a head
This is the curse when you try to change the world
Gave Mary just a slight hint Tony might be bedding Jill, Joan, not excluding Alice
Big John, definitely gay, but as I explained, Billy his partner was kissing May
Mark was salivating over the barmaid Rose
God sakes man haven’t you heard, Rose used to be Fred
You could have heard a pin drop when the chuckle brothers walked in
Word on the street, Jill and Joan were in the family way
Which in any other circumstances would be okay
But everybody knew the brothers fired blanks, hence the chuckle reference amongst the ranks
Still, honour was at stake on that fateful night
A slight nod Tony’s way would start the fight
A knife to the heart was Tony’s plight
Then a voice cried out, you sure she’s a man
Well, Rose hit Mark with a pan
Big John headbutted Billy
Who landed on Tony, and one of his cronies
Mary, who had now lost the plot when Alice showed the ring Tony had bought
A bottle of bud over the head, put paid to Tony and his amorous ways
Rose stripped off, shouting, does this look like a man
Mark got up, seeing double as the chuckle brothers pushed him down again
Big John threw Billy into the air, landing on the chuckle brothers like Fred Astaire
The brothers took this as a blatant dare, shooting Billy without a care
Tony clocked Rose in her Sunday best, uttering the words, better than all the rest
This sent Mary totally insane, followed by Jill, Joan, Alice, and for some reason May
Guns were pulled, shots went astray, all aimed at Tony who looked on in dismay
The chuckle brothers in the way, killed outright on that fateful day
Legend has it, a crime of passion, no arrests were ever made
Tony fled the country, followed by Jill, Joan, and for some reason May
Mark and Rose fell in love, got married
Mary and Alice gave them away
Big John and Billy gave it another go
I was going to mention to him, but decided no
Not after all the advice I gave went untold
Still, this is the curse when you try to change the world
This is why I woke up with a head
Though, what a palaver
Was it something I said.
#Sacrifice_puked_upon
There's a voice, so loud in my neighbors house, I peep to see whats happening, a lad is the source of it, projected at parents. Wish to shut my ears and close my eyes, so not to hear and listen but my inner being abducts me into it.
Broken, mothers special mug, I see the broken pieces scattering also in her eyes, her body taking badly the shot of the sound the mug makes when hitting the floor. I realize indeed, such was a special mug, her womb fruit. A child mushrooming amorphously, out and wild of her mothers hands and side.
There she remain numb and demented, only tears speaking on her behalf, through falling, on the very floor the mug has fallen. In those tears, its not only pain coated but hope and her only wishes to this world and life.
This is a taking moment, the least and last of what was left of this mother. If life is not choked out of her body, this moment, Heaven clock must had not clocked upon her soul.
I see her reconnecting back with her strength, trying to sit herself down, with her hand on her mouth, words not audible breathed out from the uncovered part of her mouth.
Like any parent, she never imagined that one day her womb fruit, would too grow thorns and start preakling her. Her mistake was saying "not my child" forgetting that on this temporary world, no one live without discovering for themelves the true meaning of "never say never" proverb.
In her mind, all her starving days, her efforts, sacrifices and investment in this lad, pilling into stacks of pain, she wanna shout and burst her pain out but her voice dries out, for the pain having spread like venom upon her body, all she can and left with, are tears that run so trespassing upon her every pore of her eyes,
she realize to herself that these are her sacrifices puked upon, I pray this to be not the last she could realize and take as her last discovery to her creator. Parenting gone south, like a lab experiment unconvincing its scientists, while children turning opposite to what every parent wishes, parents sacrifice puked upon
#Poetic_Ink
there wasn’t a moment of true compassion,
when they all clocked out at 5,
so with time the mind grows weary, sick of
fighting its surroundings,
so she became used to being reduced to
a caged animal with voices sounding,
echoing, bouncing off the walls inside her
head,
looking for a hug from the mother/father she
never really had,
she cut herself, hang herself,
she tried every escape in the book,
but nothing seemed to really work, it was all
gobbledygook,
her doctors wanted her locked up forever,
the best way to secure their job,
regardless of what pain it caused,
regardless of how it throbbed,
ultimately she was cast out to the wolves,
the wolves that hadn’t been caught yet,
and rather than being torn up & eaten,
she decided not to sweat the threat,
for with a harder core than anyone,
she pitied nothing & began abusing,
with a blank canvas in front of her,
she spread the paint of blood,
she beat those that put their trust in her,
she sliced everyone she could,
using every tool in her tool box,
every bit of viciousness she learned,
she scarred those that let this happen to her,
relentlessly, watching the system burn.
Everyday when his dad came home he was waiting there
This was the special time that his dad always had to share
He taught him to throw and to catch how to swing his bat
Every game he played front row is where his dad was at
Started off with tee ball and even then he was a superstar
Not one of the older kids could hit the ball near as far
Then he moved up to softball and what was clear to see
The boy had a natural gift as natural as a gift could be
When he made it to hardball believe these words are true
Matt was one of the best pitchers the world ever knew
Through school and into Collage there never was any doubt
Their best player step up to the plate, Matt would fan them out
Sometimes in life just when we start thinking everything is great
Whether or not we deserve what happens we meet a divesting fate
Matt was out on a Friday night after pitching a picture perfect game
With the stands full of pro scouts promising him a career and life of fame
His fastball clocked at 98 and his control was pinpoint on the spot
After every game he would hug his dad and tell him “Dad thanks a lot”
A drunk driver ran a red light and ended Matt’s career that night
Being left a Paraplegic as it turns out would be Matt’s final plight
A lesser man would have been angry he would wallow in his hate
But that path was not for Matt he just stepped right up to the plate
Became one of the worlds greatest sit down skiers, the first to do a flip
Matt didn’t just come back swinging he was swinging from the hips
You see Matt’s dad didn’t just play with him he taught him the game
He taught him how to fully believe in himself, the W by his name
What Matt learned from Baseball he taught to you know who
Long as you believe in and assert yourself, nothing you can’t do
Written in honor of Matt Oberholtz
who I was fortunate enough to meet
because my friend Nick Jenkins was
his roommate. Want to talk about a
cool guy ice cycles shot out the back
of his water ski. Oddly enough I wrote
Matt's poem for Matt's contest.