Long Conundrum Poems
Long Conundrum Poems. Below are the most popular long Conundrum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conundrum poems by poem length and keyword.
Burning the midnight oil while writing
this poem one line at a time
looking for reason searching for meaning
making words scan and having them rhyme
consider the hands of a clock
as around the dial they rotate
some arrive early
(tick-tock tick-tock)
others come in late
one is fast the other slow
round and round and round they go
observe this strange conundrum
it's a paradox in every paradigm
tho' traveling at two different speeds
they keep the self-same time
whereas a broken watch
(strange to say),
in its oxymoronic way
tho' its tempo is a no-go
is correct twice each day
and
as it's of the essence whenever I see fit
I simply turn back time
3... 2... 1... emit
wandering in wasteland
of denuded life
desolate
sinuous track
takes me
to the terrain
of nowhere
nebulous
I’m entangled
in enmeshing web
of
enigmatic conundrum
shall I escape
from decay delirium
or not
I can’t decide
ingrained imprint
indelible
of
wheel of time
turning
in destiny domain
twisted out
of tormenting tangle
of tortuous trail
of passive past
steers
with promise
of pride
my fraught mind
out of maze
shows me
the pledged pathway
to fervent fountain
of misty meadow
protected
I break open
there
invisible barrier
you’ve built
of seclusion
around your garden
secret
blooming
furtive flowers
hidden
from me
but
I’ll saunter
there
suffused with
seraphic shine
sanguine
of sunburst dawn
new
I wish
before I walk
the last mile
our paths
will cross
entranced
coalesce
into oneness
someday
What conundrum lies under life's foxy rinds
That even the most adept eye seldom finds?
The surgeon's knife removes the outer coat
To see hard lids that mask the whole report.
Keenest pilots only fly far above the riddle
That fiercest submarines bypass beneath.
Your most bookish attorney all so discreet,
Skips the arcane page with clamping teeth.
Learned lecturing geeks with dense lenses on,
Awfully ruin that stealthy paradox's silent tone.
And though brainy engineers quite close come,
The lupine puzzle leaves them guessing dumb.
World's award-winning pens deal it a dismal try.
They weave airy scenes bereft of reality's touch:
With grisly folios wherein fictitious actors cry,
With thievish knaves who glut in clamiest loot.
Even the deepest learning by bipedaled types,
Shall not unearth existence's inscrutable lipes.
It has been quite long that we’ve been intimate,
in rain and in shine we’ve fostered our entwined fate.
In the dune of my mind mirages disappear in the desert,
make your shifting shadow overtly overcast my heart.
The dream clouds of parched passion don’t come low,
my horizon waits weary for the southern wind to blow,
bring your wispy winsome charisma with the sunset glow,
in its spectral surge my chromatic craving yearns to flow.
Time comes when disparity develops from consuming closeness,
dancing to your music in the misleading maze makes no sense.
Our detangled roads diverge, I see at the end of the day,
out of conundrum I choose the one taking me from you far away.
Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life,
I drift with no rancor out of the realm of the extant enigma rife.
I won’t detest you if in my dull days you don’t ever shine,
I would walk my life’s pathway the way I want, for it’s mine.
What to my wandering eye did appear,
But a grape—violet, juicy, and dear—
And a small purple envelope right near.
I found the grape tempting, stretched forth my hand;
Surprise! On the envelope it did land—
A conundrum I could not understand.
The envelope twisted beneath my palm,
Quickly shattering my internal calm.
"How can that be?" said with decided qualm.
Again, the paper shell quivered so slight,
Giving my fingers a terrible fright.
My quick twitch sent the grape into the night.
Now alone with the envelope’s mischief,
I said right out loud, “Enough of this stuff!”
And stepping back, I squished the grape—too rough.
Then, slipping on the grape’s broken skin,
I most brutally barked my left shin.
Jumping about, I bumped the table—and then...
Knocked the envelope up into the air,
Where, to my sudden alarm and despair,
It vanished—gone, like it was never there.
So, as to the meaning of envelope and grape,
I’m afraid we’ll never know... or at least be in for a wait.
Violet Grape Purple Envelope Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
9/24/2025
I'll write only of my biggest fault,
over it, I daily agonize.
My heart and soul are under assault
I need to conceptualize.
I can't seem to conquer my dislike
of ignorance, I can plainly see,
As I introspect, there's disquiet
blaming is not where I want to be.
Realizing many cannot afford
a college degree, even a class,
And many with a degree ignored
truth, giving conspiracy a pass.
So, each of us could open a book...
on one hand, I love the concept
of thriving, thinking, but sure to look
where we're going before we have leapt.
Disliking a mind willing to be
told what to think, to believe, to speak
I'm discarding all their qualities
closing my mind, refusing to seek.
A closed mind, a form of ignorance
so I've come full circle with my despair.
I've fallen prey to my dissonance.
A conundrum that needed some air.
April 30, 2023
for “Character Traits” poetry contest
by Angela Tune
The Poetess......
Suffered in angst and deep loneliness,
As her Jasmine poetry was anew and just growing.
“What good are my poems regarding truthfulness
or honesty?
Against seas of deceitful poems, puff-pretty, bright
glowing?”
The sweet,pre-spring rains came and gave not a
whisp of an answer.
Her soul and stomach did crave some reprise.
“No, no, rest, dear poetess, “words whispered
came in the form of a ballet dancer.
Then..what to do, she most freely wept?
“Stop looking for readers of my poems?”
Ah, a wondrous secret being kept?
“Stop, stop”, the laughing dancer said.
“Each poem you wrote once slept in
the soft bed of your heart.”
“Let it begone, and like a newborn butterfly...
alight with freedom and depart.”
3-15-2022
I did not plan to be a single cell amoeba
or this me, a conglomerate jigsaw of a being
a million times removed from primordial goo.
I was peacefully inanimate at times
endowed only with a little foggy awareness and contentment.
At one time I was George Washington’s commode,
Shortly before that, King Georges Whoopi cushion,
yet there was never any great blueprint
for my random appearances on this fat round globe.
No design, only once in a while,
an accidental hominine arrival
panting from a million journeys, a similitude
of what a human could be - given very much more time.
Reincarnation is a flawed theoretical conundrum.
No one ever claims to have been something made
by a bored passing tinkerer, yet creation is creation
after all.
Hundreds of times has Cleopatra
been lived-in like an old recliner in a nursing home,
is it any wonder that her image now
sags like a broken concertina?
I once (maybe several times) was a dog,
once a dogs dinner dish.
animation is often overrated; being stoically stiff
has its own rewards.
Dogs on the other hand,
are pretty good prototypes of a model human being.
Many ladies have been inhabited
by my wolfish lechery,
alas only I do not recall those pleasantries.
It’s not easy being a multicellular organism
I long for simpler times,
however I can do this, I may even devise a plan
to jump a generation or two of aspiring exemplars,
but I must wait for my brain to stop swelling
then shrinking like a bullfrogs throat
which recalls to mind a time
spent wallowing in Mississippi mud -
passionate nights I remember all too well.
"We've a choice, it's up on the board." ... "Be quick and write it down."
"Do you have it?" "Yes!" ... "Well, let's be away from here, time's a-running."
"There are too many eyes and too many else ... let's move on."
"Here, by the clearing ... now give it here, let me have a look."
"Just as I thought, a bit of a pickle, this is." ... "You can do it."
"I am unscathed ... when I am left to my own devices."
"One deals with timing, a deadline ... consequences--unsolved."
"The other is more philosophical ... leans like a conundrum."
"We will fair better if we take the latter." ... "Alright then."
"These statements are more like questions." ... "Well, best we answer them."
"It's been put to us to task, ... hence, we'll forward ourselves, solidly."
"The latter ... cringe like fingernails scratching in a coffin."
"I've been researching--the scratch!"..."The scratches in the coffin?"
"Alas! Dawn's a revelation ... To be or not to be."
"Is that a question?"... "With a mark, indeed!" "We are doing Hamlet."
"You mean that Shakespeare tragedy." ... "Could be a comedy."
"The Prince of Denmark's line ... he'd surely offed himself, the truth be told."
"His line of Yorick -- years of misquotes, poor William!" ... "Rewrite?
His most voluminous play ... good -- the young Prince is faithful."
"His deep faith?" ... "One who fakes his lunacy?" 'Twas good of him to know."
"I'd think that'd be helpful." "His faith?"..."No, his temperament."
'Heightening endurance and focusing, methinks ... those are the tickets."
"Like the tides ... tamed by forces yond their abilities to stop it."
"Or allow it ... depends on where the benefits may lie."
"It'll be a prelude ... for one to triumph over adversities."
"Also, they will be able to ... follow through on their goals."
"Temperament can also ... control passions and desires.
"This taunting, ever haunting ... prompting on ways to persuade."
"A causation be at dawn's break ... cessation, well to the twilight."
"Calamity, catastrophe ... all be a bit pushy."
BETTER MAKE THIS ONE GOOD
It’s all succinct until we leap.
Of this day, for three, not a peep.
Grow older, slower — now that’s deep.
February Twenty-ninth!
On horseback, knight awaits orders,
until day he can leave borders,
leap past the square, stun recorders,
once every four years.
Frog taps fingers on lily pad.
A little bored, a little sad.
What takes so long - has he been had?
He’s over this!
What if taking a leap of faith
haunted you for four years - a wraith.
To take leap you’d have to have faith.
What a conundrum!
2020 is a leap year.
Some blessed birthday child will cheer
and down her cheek their rolls a tear.
Better make this one good!
1/23/2020
Great Leap Forward Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Beth Evans
Used: Tail Rhyme