Long Contributor Poems
Long Contributor Poems. Below are the most popular long Contributor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Contributor poems by poem length and keyword.
I WISH I WEREN’T A BUNNY
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I never wanted to be a bunny, I’m not playing this game
I’d reconsider a puma: a lion with a frightening mane
But that’s not my fate, I’m a bunny, a defenseless toy
Other creatures have fangs, claws; they can deploy
I have no defensive arms for use in personal defense
Why nature created a sitting duck, just makes no sense
My choice would be the fiercest critter ever seen
Yep, you got the picture, the ferocious wolverine
Indian lore says, one could cause a village to vacate
Moving in on his territory was a fatal mistake
He’d come after you, if on horse back or if on foot
He’d destroy your tepees and lodges all gone, kaput
But alas, that’s not me: in spite of what I’d like to be
I’m a bunny with soft fur, that’s something we all can see
I have soft long ears, and a wiggly waggely tail
A cute sniffing nose, my gifted maneuvers never fail
Maybe for you, but doesn’t satisfy my lifelong dream
I’m a ferocious beast inside willing to dominate the scene
Mother nature could have given me more traits to bear
Like those big hind legs and speed she gave to the hare
Or a cotton tail that can avoid danger by simply leaping
I spend the day, daydreaming or silently sleeping
But all in all; the object of my wishes and self esteem
Is to wake up tomorrow in the body of a wolverine
Each day when I open my eyes, it’s the same old story
My status hasn’t changed, I’m the example of lonely
When I first arrived every body came over to see me
I was the new thing on the block a real live novelty
But as time progressed visitors were fewer in number
Reducing my activities to intermittent slumber
Bunny (2)
I can’t complain I have fresh vegetables every day
And usually some company, if the kids decide to play
But I’m a one man show unable to live up to my reputation
As a prolific contributor in expanding the population
Each night I pray when I wake a willing doe will appear
I know she is somewhere but unfortunately, not here
In a dream the other night, I was lightening quick
Instead of hippity n hopping, I was lickety split
Those wishes that constantly flood my senses
Doused by the existence of surrounding fences
I’ll just have to accept my lot, be docile, not mean
But between you and I, I’d rather be a wolverine
The climate of planet earth has always been in a constant state of change, but modern science seems to have discovered a pattern of transformation that is very disturbing. Such revelations enable them to predict changes that will occur based on conditions that we mortals have created or have been a great contributor. Whether caused by natural processes over time or due to the reckless greed of mankind matters little, but the bigger question is whether or not we can effect a change, or is it really inevitable that we are ecologically and realistically doomed to annihilation. For at least half to three-quarters of my life, the government and the popular media have given me endless scenarios of, not possible but most probable catastrophic outcomes barring some drastic altering of mankind's current way of life. The kind of climate change that they foresee engenders a wildly ballistic mentality of anticipated pain and lasting misery of yet unheard of proportions, and it has the feel of a movie whose director and producer are prepared for mad dashes to high hills, mountain tops, and cave dwelling as the borders of southern Oregan clear across the Rockies and northern states become mere icepacks and freezer zones. The entire state of California will break away along the High Sierras and slide into the Pacific. Massive earth quakes, tsunamis, ice caps, floods, mud slides, forest fires, massive power outages, regional droughts, tornadoes, and hurricanes will as if having a mind of their own form a treaty to create a perfect storm in the northern hemisphere. Like the wild animals of the jungle and beasts of the wilderness, mankind's only feat will be to survive in an environment where the reasoning and rationalizing ability have been exchanged for a chaotic world of anarchistic instinct. *It is said that the locust does not have a king, yet they travel in bands. I do not look forward to a time when the locust accomplishes more in a leaderless state than we humans will. We will not be unified but disconnected as we slowly drift into a planetary abyss after pounding each other into the dust from which we came. Need I say more about how long this distructive condition will last? I know. So much doom and gloom....but I have too much to declare.
06042017PSContest, The Bleaker The Better, Julia Ward; Proverbs30:27*, NA
When people comment
on the style or way
I write and the words
I use to express and convey
my thoughts and views.
I tend to stop and ponder
my road less traveled .
Acknowledging, appreciating ,
admiring the authors, teachers
scribes of many nations
and the outer regions of the universe ,
who have inspired , guided encouraging ,
me to develop and advance
my writing skills along the way.
People like Manly P. Hall
Socrates, Plato, Thales of Miletus ,
Thomas Aquinas , The Apostles ,
Sigman Freud , Carl Jung , Galileo Galilei,
Benjamin Franklin , Thomas Edison , Nikola Tesla ,
William Shakespeare , Homer , Aesop
and other well known Philosophers and
critical thinkers in the world's history.
Authors like Dr. Edgar Cayce
Dr. George Brown ,
Literary genius and artist such as James Joyce ,
Walt Whitman and of course some of my favorite
Authors George Orwell , Robert Frost , with their
extensive and vibrant vocabularies
and their ability to bring words to life.
The most impressive author
with the ability to put you in the room
And stimulate our sensations such
as aroma and taste and sound to make you feel
as if you are sitting in the cat birds seat.
An author with incredible and fascinating
writing technique , a man with a colorful and sparkling array of words , and superlative writing flair and talent
that tickles the imagination.
Capable of painting a scene with words ,
bringing it to life ,
like no other author has ever done before or since.
A story teller who can magically ,
create a vision so vivid so profound ,
one just might forget and step away
from reality for a brief moment in time.
An individual who can descriptively describe
the Animation of his imagination
like no man or woman in the history of recorded time.
Creator and contributor
of some of the finest sculptures
in the world of literary works of art.
Born into reality in the year 1809 , on the 19th day of January.
He would go on to reside
in the harts , souls and minds ,
intricately woven into universal fabric of time
October 7 Nineteen Hundred Forty Nine.
The individual who put the authenticity of Poe
Into Poetry
Ladies and Gentlemen.
Edgar Allan Poe.
Michael E.Harris
10072024
Admonishing against arrogance and apathy
Building lives buttressed with leadership brace
Caring for his children, blending compassion and circumspection
Daddy* dearest is decisive, determined, diligent, dedicated, disciplinarian...
Empowering with his enabling encouragement
Fatherly figure, firming up family fortress by his faith-fortitude
Godly in gearing, guarding, governing, guiding along grace goodness
Hoisting us toward holiness-height, happiness’ health and heavenly hope...
Instructor was Dad: intelligent and inspiring
Jovial while being just; amidst job-stress, jubilant
Keen in his knowledge kingdom for kindling kindness
Leading us to love’s light along liberating lessons in life...
Man of mercy and might, managing meaningfully
Nurturing so well with Mom’s nursing nourishment
Offering and opening great opportunities for optimization
Prayerful Dad propelled us to perform with best for progress
Quitting not in doing best despite qualms to attain noble quests...
Reverberating Dad’s legacy, worth remembering
Surely serving as steadfast statutes of strength’s stamina
Truthful indeed against trying times toward triumphant tasks
Unwavering since he had them exemplified by the Lord’s uplift
Values he did instill is us verily make us victors, vanquishing vanity...
Wonderful Dad, you have made us today’s winners
‘Xample you are to us, a champion , a hero of ‘xcellence
Your memory* lives in our hearts forever; yes, beyond eternity’s yon
Zealous are we to thank you, and we praise the Lord for your virtues’ zest.
*Proverbs 10:7 The memory of the just is blessed: but the name of the wicked shall rot.
Daddy Roberto passed away on January 2, 2019, as he was called to be with the Lord forever. Dad, by the grace and power of the Lord, left us - his children and his grandchildren - with a great testimony of a blessed fulfilled life as a husband, father, brother, church member, community contributor; indeed a virtuous life-builder.
December 10, 2019
ABC form with alliteration
6th place, "Memorial of a Loved One" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 12/13/2019.
A teenager with the expressions of a middle age individual
is the wonder-creating characteristic of its accelerating growth.
Dwelling in a land not presented with natural gifts;
it still beat all odds to be a member of the Asian Tigers
and a competing contributor to its domain’s prosperity.
The birth place to the Toilet theme amusement park
and a camp of makeup obsessed men.
The fourteenth day of every month is set aside in romance’s banquet
except that of the fourth month when mourning becomes love’s pirate.
February is for young men, march, three times for the ladies.
Prides in the globally acknowledged Boryeona Mud Festival
and gives socialization a new countenance in the “hoesik” event,
while new standards in robotic technology is climaxed
as prison guards, patrols, anti-jelly fish squad and teachers
actively exist through exciting artificial intelligence.
A humiliating public ritual in a form of crime reenactment,
personality stereotypes emanating from the different blood groups,
a nationwide superstitious repugnance to the red ink;
very cultured to even create a backlash
on Bill Gates’ presidential handshake;
typify a people coming a long way from a turbulent past.
A territory of very bright and brainy students;
the god of the LG, Hyundai and Samsung among others;
and to the largest church in size and congregants in the world.
It is the well preserved garden where plastic surgery strives
all to show an amazing growth once heavily stunted,
suffering a suppression entertained by the comfort ladies;
somehow causing a perspective towards the rising sun
to be similar to the swastika’s view by the Jews.
Despite the Japanese colonization, soviet meddling and North Korean threats,
it’s still showing mental strength to be the world’s 12th largest trading Nation.
THE SILENT PANDEMIC
The silent pandemic, a global problem ignored is mental illness.
Mental disorders, like depression, substance abuse are worldwide.
Nearly one billion people around the world live with this sickness.
Mental illness, if left untreated can cause severe mental unfitness,
such as emotional, behavioral as well as physical downside.
The silent pandemic, a global problem ignored is mental illness.
It is a leading cause of disability for contributing to mental weakness.
Globally, one million people die every year because of suicide.
Nearly one billion people around the world live with this sickness.
Depression is a major contributor ranked to mental unhealthiness
and overall global burden of disease for it ruins the person inside.
The silent pandemic, a global problem ignored is mental illness.
Three million deaths due to substance abuse show the disease’s fierceness
and every forty second, a person takes his or her own life or puts it aside.
Nearly one billion people around the world live with this sickness.
Thirty percent of the world’s population has no programs for mental awareness.
Mental health is a neglected issue for lack of funding puts it into the wayside.
The silent pandemic, a global problem ignored is mental illness.
Nearly one billion people around the world live with this sickness.
4/21/21 A Major World Problem Poetry
L Milton Hankins
Used: RhymeZone
PS Grammar Checker
BROKEN RECORD
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Like a stray dog with no one to share
I quietly meander hoping someone will care
But that won’t happen I’ll just rail in despair
I’ll just go over to Vic’s take my usual chair
Some folks look at me, their disdain so easy to spot
That’s the visual comment thrown at a hopeless sot
They don’t know and don’t care, I’ve also forgot
What caused my hopes and dreams once fresh, now rot
Set them up barkeep and leave the bottle
There are pains of the past I need to throttle
Memories of warmth, joy, all now in a muddle
Were they real?, not sure, I tend to befuddle
Barkeep bring me more ice and a fresh glass
I miss the old gang, after downing a few, they’d pass
But I would stay on til the place closed down
Staggering in public, falling, a hapless clown
We use to meet, lift a few, laugh and tell jokes
I never realized that fun was a sham on us folks
And especially me
I never realized I was a contributor to all those lies
We were all pretending wearing a false disguise
We were nonchalant, funny and acting cool
We had a great audience, oh, so easy to fool
What was eating our souls was never displayed
Same people, different faces, a drunkards masquerade
Make it a double martini, barkeep omit the vermouth
The more I examine myself the closer I come to the truth
There are occasions when I contemplate the ugly fact
That I’m an alcoholic, bottoms up, I’ll drink to that
Glitter glue laced ticker tape....
Of colourful confetti covering such sight
More and more, their eyes dipped in tars
Infectious quills, beneath these softened feathers
Penetrating, their own fatalities cryptograms....
As they aimlessly blend a colludeds pretentious purpose?
Bending this times fading, unto its very own knees!
Within these, their poisoned spoiled schemes
Buried beneath such smiling lotus faces; cracked
These mannequins dressed in their own dark blank black....
Messengers without a promises clue; not knowing whom they are?
Perditions offspring they seem; these, children of the sintarians star
Venin poised at the tip of their tongues!
Hidden, behind sacrilegious' ruby red lips
Drippings, of a partings depository decay?
Trying to spread their gangrenous green blood
Throughout my venous' veraciously pulsing veins
Like liquid streams of futility....
These pantomimes' grand charades
Parabolics, with hollowed fangs!
Puppets, upon their powdered strings
Amid the soul asylums sanctuary
Of the indeed, vanguards inane....
Colourless confetti, permeating my sight
This contributor, of the jet black pain
Spawned, by the principality of invectives, inverted cross
The bleakest paramour amid the paralax of their unknowings
Souls, thrice times dead....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Perditions Parade
Form:
She welcomes us into her husband's home,
Serves us with best dishes,
And refers to us as her beloved children
When daddy wants to get us new clothes,
He asks her to escort him to the great shopping center,
He says she makes better choices than our mother.
She takes us in,to sleep in her home
Whenever our father has gone on a journey,
And treats us just like one of our aunts.
When our father wants to make a decision,
He tells her the whole plan,
So that she can make the best decision.
Our sperm contributor compares her to our mummy
Saying she cooks more delicious food,
Than his wife's dirty and unsweet food.
When her children are sent home for school fees,
Daddy gives it to them,and they return to school.
While we stay at home, counting a week's stay.
He buys ice cream for her children,
And says they speak better English than us
And dance modernly unlike local us.
And when he wrote the will,
All daddy's property belonged to her.
The car,land ,cattle, business and children.
She wants us to love her like our own,
But to our faces,she's only a begging stranger-
Who wants to rob our mother of her family.
She wishes we could hug her with affection,
But our spirits are conservative,
Looking with disgust at her arrival.
She would like to have us for her children
But we belong to another woman.
She's only our father's wife!
Ampurire Anitah
“As a contributor of this publication
you now have the chance to be
selected as one of the top 50 poets
in the over 25 year-olds’ category,
be invited to a prestigious performance
poetry final to perform your poem
in front of an expert panel of judges
and a live audience” I jumped after reading
this mail from poetry soup. The organizers
Andrea,Poet Destroyer,Suzzane,
Joyce,Yasmin,kash,Carrie, nette,
Debbie, Sara Kendrick,Craig,
Richard, Giorgio, Jimbo,harry,Don,
Shar ,Char, C.L. , Bob Hinslaw,Constance,
Wilma, Judy ,Joe,shadow and more…
Meeting Andrea,Poet Destroyer and Suzanne
my top priority.I presume they are nice people.
Joyce, I want to ask her, how write this way?
Great elegance in style! Yasmin and nette
believe they are great ones. They may
never bother to smile. Suzzane ,the new
age Homer ,the Greece poet worshiping Apollo,
the god of poetry.I will certainly cherish the
intellectual deliberations with Suzzane.
The other poets how could it be to
praise and being praised.Certainly be a
great occasion. The chief coordinator Andrea
busy organizing the whole event by carrying
the smile.I believe that day is not too far.
I start saving money in my money box.
Hoping to see all by the near future. Love to see
this community flourish with Grace.
Guys & gals see you.
Dated :01-11-2013.
For the contest “Meeting the Soupers” from Yasmin Khan.