Long Considered Poems
Long Considered Poems. Below are the most popular long Considered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Considered poems by poem length and keyword.
Hello, I am a praying mantis from the tropics,
a killer really, once I bit off the head of my lover;
and then I ate him, yummy and then I was caught,
I ended up in a pet store until one day she bought me.
I am a strange pet for a girl to have and love,
but it is so, few people realize we make amazing pets;
no weirder than a rat or ferret or snake.
My species is known for courage and fearlessness,
in ancient times we were considered supernatural gods;
but I have no powers except my praying posture,
I like to be perfectly still with my for arms folded in prayer.
Usually my girl feeds me small insects she finds,
once when I was on a stroll I reached into her goldfish bowl;
and ate her goldfish, oh my, was she upset with me,
I like to grip her finger with my long legs.
One day I escaped into the garden, oh delight,
I ate a bunch of bugs by ambush and camouflage;
you see I am the master of disguise,
I can blend into the foliage and any background.
My girl found me when I was trying to resemble a flower,
she said I was a giveaway with my two bulging eyes;
(and three small ones) darn it anyways, almost had freedom,
but in truth I love my girl and the lovely nest she made for me.
She has made it look like my tropical homeland,
with a heater and plants on which I crawl and pray;
there is never a lack of bugs to eat and I do love the light above,
so yes I am an odd pet for a girl to love;
but she calls me beautiful and that makes my wings flutter,
and I go into my praying poise for her to praise . . .
________________________
August 12, 2016
Poetry/Personification/Praying Mantis Pet
Copyright Protected, ID 16-817-962-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
UNSUPPORTED CODE Thanksgiving
How can so few have so much -
so many have so little?
I am rich beyond belief
yet am not considered rich.
I count my riches daily:
the warmth of heart and
home, the patchy grass,
faded paint, rock garden
(each stone rolled by
my hands). The heart,
she waves to me each morning
as I leave for work,
greets me on returning.
Other hearts, now scattered,
not too far away yet never
near enough, have left their
emptiness to fill the rooms.
I sit, well clothed, warm, and
free. I am ever grateful for
this freedom, freedom to be,
freedom to be me, to love,
to sing, to speak my mind,
to write with passion of
passion. And yet I ache for
those who know not freedom,
nor peace, nor joy, nor a
day of Thanksgiving. I cry for
children who will not be
fed, nor cared for - not because
there is lack of caring - but
because the caring lacks
the backbone of freedom,
the hand of compassion,
the hope - of Thanksgiving.
John G. Lawless
11/28/2013 UNSUPPORTED CODE
Bake the world a cake and wear your shimmering crown of perfection.
Gorge on pure bites of unearned kindness to feed your grievous bodily farm.
Your dignity is a sight unseen.
Like a spider in mucous your predicament is set, your progress smothered.
We all know your street of benevolence ends in a potholed cul-de-sac.
Vanish down your own sinkhole.
Tears on a fat cheek bleed a needy trail that screams for holy reverence.
A path carved in righteous marble yields nothing but jeers from the gallery.
Consider yourself considered.
Interactions that pass like a kidney stone from bloody stream to toilet bowl.
All is mimicry, all is disgust, and the smile is ill, the smile is façade.
Your smile needs a trauma clean.
"Me"
Out of all the things in the world I could be
I have finally accepted
It's best if I'm me
A caterpillar who soon
Went into a cacoon
And to my surprise
I went from crawling
to flying like a beautiful butterfly
I was a painting on the wall
that people considered graffiti
my words became intense
and to the world more needy
I wouldn't consider it greedy
I would consider it hunger
I wish I was this hungry
when I was younger
a lesson learned
time to reset
time to experience the best yet
Level up
with no regrets
standards it's time to set
elevation is a word
that goes unheard
so this is what I will do
know the limit for myself is through the roof
so which one will it be
that choice is totally up to you
you see
I will just enjoy being me
Written by: Concetta Hardnett
07/06/2019
Raisin just stared at the chaos ahead
A kitten, confused as she sat there in dread
The world has gone mad, all the people have flipped
She glared at a window where blood and gore dripped
Folk wearing specs that have eyeballs on springs
Rubber bats hanging on elastic strings
Teeth that are pointed that vampires call fangs
A sycamore tree where a skeleton hangs
Raisin leapt back as a gremlin passed by
His mother ignoring the stake in her eye
Even our kitten was quite unconvinced
When someone approached with a brain that was minced
Green painted people with bolts through their necks
“Give us a treat or you’ll suffer a hex.”
Bedsheets with lights in and black holes for eyes
Sound effects belting out groans, sighs and cries
Raisin considered how humans survived
When all of this subterfuge is so contrived
Only a dog who might fall for it all
Might sit there and wait for his master to call
Pumpkins on doorsteps with faces carved in
A Skeleton’s arm hanging out of a bin
One man is walking though he should be dead
Because of the arrow stuck right through his head
Raisin rushed in through the cat flap and panted
“The humans have all gone bananas,” she ranted.
“The dominant species on Earth - it is said
Is out there pretending that they are all dead.”
Rum said, “Don’t panic, there’s nothing to fear,
Today is precisely two months till new year.
If Ronald Rat hadn’t said what that might mean
I wouldn’t have known that tonight’s Halloween.”
Raisin eyed Rum with suspicion and said,
“This three months of craziness fills me with dread,
For any time now, once again they will try
To send cardboard rockets up into the sky.
They’ll get tiny bombs and they’ll set them alight
And watch them explode in the chill of the night
It all says to me that they’re all round-the-bend.”
Then Rum said, “That’s not where the ‘crazy’ will end,
“For soon they’ll be wearing white beards and red suits
And walking on rooftops in black welly boots
But they won’t use ladders as you might suppose
But chimneys and reindeer and one big red nose.”
The door opened wide and their human stood there
Holding a fake severed head by its hair
And Rum rolled his eyes as he said with a laugh,
“Which is why dogs have owners, but we cats have staff.”
Eagles Mate For Life
Written: by Tom Wright
10-26-20219
A pair of Bald Eagles at watch over aerie,
safe from predators except their own kind.
Any intrusion makes these birds wary,
but a simple fly by these two won’t mind.
They sit this moment guarding two eggs,
glaring intently at sky and water below.
Won’t be long now before a fledgling begs,
for a fish dinner that will see them grow.
Only 50% of fledglings survive the first year,
and they’re considered fortunate to be alive.
America’s national bird that can instill fear,
its message is only the strongest will survive.
The big headlines cause sensation,
Media’s chosen information.
Manipulative, they entomb
the big elephant in the room.
Stress is put on the suggestive
keeping tongue and the mind active.
They sweep aside with furtive broom
the big elephant in the room.
Gain is high on the agenda
grabbing votes in referenda.
They hide, on purpose, I presume
the big elephant in the room.
Many topics are selective;
they are made to look attractive.
Who dares to tickle with a plume
the big elephant in the room?
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A Kyrielle is a French form of rhyming poetry written in quatrains, each containing a repeating line at the end of each stanza. Each line within the poem consists of eight syllables. There is no limit to the amount of stanzas a Kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum. Some popular rhyming schemes for a Kyrielle are: aabB, ccbB, ddbB, with B being the repeated line, or abaB, cbcB, dbdB.
This form is a pleasure to use because of its rhyming scheme and the strong pivotal line on which the whole poem rotates.
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Premiere Contest No. 13
Sponsor: Skat A (2016)
Contest: Poetry Writing #1
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 1st
15th December 2015
I don't have any money, means the check is in the mail
I ain't got no money, means the water's dried up in the well
black folks tend to use language, lingo and speech
that can be considered bicultural
they can speak as refined as they want or they can talk guttural
but the message I want most to convey
Is what we gonna do about the youth of today?
when young people kill and maim,
on whom do you place the sin and the blame?
Is It the fault of the parents?,
or Is It the fault of the children?
Is It the sins of the father that have been revisited since the beginning?
as sin Is a state of being, It's a noun and not a verb
so what are we going to do,
to make a change in this world?
as people of the faith It's time for us to intercede
before It's too late so the evilness can no longer breed
our youths are in trouble
It matters not who Is to blame
we need to take some responsibility
and stop naming names
so what we gonna do?
we either poop or get off the pot
show our children what Is Godly behavior and tell them what Is not
It's not do as I say, But do as I do
be a living testimony that the young can look up to
but in order to teach, you must be teachable
to reach out, be accessible and reachable
don't compete with your children
It's okay to be their friend
as long as you don't blur that fine line
that exists between parent and children
so what we gonna do?
either we'll be good role models
and teach our youth to take a stance
or be poor examples of leadership
not even giving them a chance
God is in control, but we are also in the mix
we can't leave the raising of our youth for God alone to fix
as parents we play a major role in our children's situations
as parent we have some measure of control
and considerable consideration
as children are taught by example
we must also be aware of our behavior
so bring them into the faith, tell them about God
and let them know that JesusChrist is their Savior
It's not exegesis but extra Jesus that the youth of today need
plus concerned, caring and loving adults
who will help them in life to succeed
Bored with burgers, ribs and chicken?
Want a treat to feast upon?
I can recommend you sample
Breast of Windsor Castle swan.
There are two hundred to choose from -
Better make that one-nine-nine -
For it seems somebody caught one
And decided he would dine.
There's a law against such killing -
It was once considered treason -
'Cause these swans are all protected;
They're the Queen's, of course, the reason.
Even if they weren't royal,
They don't seem to fit the bill
Of a creature you would marinate
And toss upon the grill.
There's been no official comment
On this swan, whose life was wasted,
But Elizabeth, like all of us,
Must wonder how it tasted.
Nefertiti the bearded queen
Began her royal life at fifteen
Wooed and wed by Pharaoh Akhenaten
Ancient Egypt never was this rich again.
Nefertiti “the beautiful one has come”
Had six daughters, but unfortunately lost one.
She and her husband Pharaoh Akhenaten
Started worshipping only one god – the Sun.
Nefertiti went from Great Royal Wife
Promoted to co-regent without much strife
When her husband Pharaoh Akhenaten died,
It elevated her to rule beside his spiritual side
She was considered equal to a pharaoh now
Her legacy of changing religion is now a wow
Mansion of Benben temple dedicated to her
Visit the tombs, and hear her purr.