Long Cut to the chase Poems
Long Cut to the chase Poems. Below are the most popular long Cut to the chase by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cut to the chase poems by poem length and keyword.
For no reason at all if our heart contracts,
enveloping us in an aura of gloom,
lost in ambedo trance, our presence reacts,
refuelling vibrations ushering doom,
so unless we're in possession of the facts,
we stifle innate bliss beats that yearn to zoom.
So where lie roots of depression, we may ask,
to exhume darkness as our breath by breath task?
Let's cut to the chase, ignorance is the cause,
which in turn means that unless we are aware,
moment to moment, with desires put on pause,
we'll be unable to side step ego's snare,
so being here and now is the cure because
by abiding in stillness, our soul's laid bare
and we then witness the ebb and flow of tide,
in the firm knowing, that bliss pulsates inside.
08-May-2023
__________
Anatomy of Melancholy Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Part 3
Long story short,
Let's cut to the chase.
To where the end of the day,
Marked the end of the race.
And as the sun set,
Who did they all see?
Cresting the hill,
It ... wasn't ... the ... bunny.
For, just plodding along,
As though heading somewhere,
It was Sheldon the tortoise,
They saw over there.
Well, such a commotion,
What a hullabaloo.
None of the animals
Knew quite what to do.
In the end, they were thrilled,
That Sheldon might win.
Thought of Rabbit losing,
Well, it made them all grin.
News of events,
Had drawn a huge crowd
And, as such, the noise,
They made was quite loud.
And I'm sure you've all 'heard',
About forests and sound,
And trees when they fall,
But when there's no one around
But, whenever this happens,
Since no - one's ever about,
On the matter of whether,... well
On that, the jury's still out.
But this time there was,
So the matter's twice moot
And of no interest to Rabbit,
Who, upon hearing Owl hoot,
Had woken from slumber,
his "only - one - hour snooze,
When he'd thought to himself,
"There's no way I could lose."
But the knot in his stomach,
Grew with gnawing concern,
Had he rested too long,
Avoiding sunburn.
And upon that note, that rabbit ran,
In fact he practically flew.
And how many records,
he broke is unclear
But it was definitely more than two.
But alas his best, was not enough
Poor Rabbit looked awful dour.
For Sheldon had just finished crossing the line,
(which, from head to tail,
took just under an hour).
When he'd broken the tape
They'd all gone ma-goo,
But, thirty minutes still crossing
Had grown more subdued.
And by the time crafty Sheldon,
Won that race and for good,
Half of the animals
Had started thinking of food.
And this brings us too,
The end of the tale
Where tortoise beat rabbit
In a race through the dales.
And though he had hoped
For an ongoing ovation
Their response fell far short
Of his expectations.
For half of the animals
Were planning their supper,
While the rest were avoiding
Being a meal for the other.
And so while rabbit, still fuming,
outran his fox nemesis.
Tortoise plodded home
And pondered his existence.
The End
"Binary?",
On the contrary,
a language I don't understand?
"Absurd it said, it's in your head..."
"Hear",
Put my keyboard on your hand.
~` Till we start with
1 in the Heart
2 understand our part,
3 steps we'll be
4 digits and
One thumb on the door.
One hand, ready, understand
!ng I
C & convey the G..
8i
0, I g.et it.
-_ to the edit
+ = counted.
You can bet on
IT
@
~If I teach you to See Me, then will you fix my monitor please?
:)
"cut to the chase" is what I heard.
6726 is absurd!
It is indeed, hold onto your hat,
In the Wind is the reed.
And it's blowing back.
better again, as we mend.
dear. forever again as we bend.
"we're here"
Form:
Cut to the chase after tan hat man!
Though reading horror stories
gearing up as strawberry spring fest
full throttle danse (macabre),
an only every now and again predilection
genre crazy wave
washing over me like
a killer tsunami,
harboring pier rill less night surf
(subsequently fueling figurative
hair razing close shave
critical desperation) to save
thine scrawny ****,
(a derriere laughing stock,
and hence cheeky of me to rave),
what you put
in a Margarita,
those rare occasions satiated, when
hung over insomnia heavily bulging,
rheumy myopic blood shot eyes
nonetheless lock into
vital opening sentence determining,
whether adroit kingly author
nimbly setting the stage and pave
ving what thenceforth, pro
misses tubby a cell out ace
in the hole captive audience
skeleton crew exhuming a grave
grim reaper they crave
(me, this apt pupil), doth brace
himself by all counts once
a bad little kid deserving, well...now...
just a bag of bones,
who fiendishly cackles
analogous to screeching
linkedin deafening banshee
when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like),
whereat after opening sentence,
an instantaneous big bang
possessive gnarly hand
forcibly grabs my attention
presaging and frightening
yours truly (juiced in case
ye did not know),
where within the bazaar
of bad dreams epic,
which seems like forever,
when I finally erase
and exorcise the bogeyman who,
regally, masterfully, immediately,
dramatically got woven
lady chattery teeth and all
withering wicked warp and woof
establishing (proof positive),
an excellently crafted
Chiral Mad heavily shades
of night are falling
gussying haunting place,
where the color of evil permeates
every cerebral space
with darkness, said
sub rosa prime evil punctuates
the mind of this dream catcher,
whence after four past midnight
the reaper's image appears
sending adrenaline rush,
surreal augmented moving pictures,
viz flight or fight
courtesy third eye blind
did, when firestarter alarm didst grind
passage of time manifesting dark forces
blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined
up battleground formation
from the borderlands of my mind
this even before turning
the first page where the eyes
of drag'n my afterlife
glowed with radiant shining
where suspense didst wind.
Multitudes enter the venue
all know there's something Entre Nous
You Take a Friend to find your place
it's time to just Cut to the Chase
All Losing It, the lights go down
Signals a start to the Countdown
Vital Signs race to Larry, Curly, and Moe
a Distant Early Warning that starts the show
Can't Resist that sound, distinctive
while The Stars Look Down it seems instinctive
The Spirit of Radio starts (with an attitude)
up on your feet you're In the Mood
Making Memories with a Headlong Flight
and straight on into The Color of Right
Might they play The Necromancer
or maybe even Fancy Dancer
Tom Sawyer starts a wild frenzy
One Little Victory follows unrelentingly
No Ghost of a Chance they'd play Cygnus X-1
but books one AND two - they aren't even done
only Intermission
Presto - back with 2112
how far back will they delve
A Passage to Bangkok brings you to Tears
then showing four aspects of their Fears
While Mystic Rhythms start to grow
O Baterista is next, as we all know
YYZ, Working Man both kick ass
Natural Science and then The Pass
Makes The Body Electric and Time Stand Still
knowing you are Here Again of your own Freewill
They Test for Echo seeing all still alive
Red Barchetta makes sure you can drive
Trees stand tall in Cities of Gold that are Seven
swaying themselves under the starry heaven
Limelight shines in La Villa Strangiato
Wish Them Well for it is time to go
But We Hold On....
Malignant Narcissism starts the encore
Spindrifts into The Snow Dog and By-Tor
One can only Hope it's not the last tour
Closer to Your Heart than ever Before(and After)
In the End you know
you are Finding Your Way back home
endlessly rocking
endlessly rocking under starry heavens
As the Caravans travel onwards
riding out into a heartless sea
Remember what, to you, brought these words
Dirk, Lerxst, Pratt, and the lonely letter of E.
song/album titles/partial lyrics-Lee/Lifeson/Peart ©
"Scripted on Tequila"
I used to love you! I cherished you! Thus you embraced me , you raised me, you shared me with the world.
I was a gift just as much you were to us....
Lies , why's , cries.....for her it was dice! Diced pineapples....naked on the beach infront of MTV , you wanted to impress the Empress l ain't talking Fergie! Nor Maggie! Yes Angie when you went full Speed l realised we were not meant to swim in the same Pool.
This is not Winnie the Pooh's episode , it is not Espionage not necessarily Nicky Minaj's butt but something beyond our control like Micheal Jackson ' s baby with Billie Jean .... feels so distant yet it was yesterday when Billy Ocean brought smiles to Men with perms and chains.
I will cut to the chase , get to that place . I miss us ! I miss you ! What you and l bring ....that is Tanaka , Tinashe , Tamuka , Palesa and Allegra our legacy , my blood....your blood together we are forever binded by life and so called love yet we gave up ! What is to be learnt from this chapter we scripted on Tequila?
Now we're worlds apart, I've never felt so misplaced
I don't know where to start, the days I find hard to face
Now I'm wondering what to do?, it's like I no longer exist
Trying to find a way through, I just can't help but reminisce
And I ask why it is she had to leave what exactly went wrong?
Without her I find it hard to breathe, the days they seem so long
The chances of us getting back? now probably a million to one
Any advances on a panic attack, but it's so hard now she's gone
If ever I'm walking down the street, and which ever way I turn
I keep hoping we will once again meet, as for her I still yearn
So many opportunities for questions I could have then asked
And now she’s just another faded out picture from the past
Now she is just someone that I once knew but still I really miss
I can't help but feel so blue, thinking of times that we had, bliss!
I'll cut to the chase, she was someone who touched my heart
Still I think of us in that time and space, though we're worlds apart
written 1998 some lines originally (1996)
rewritten 2000- worlds apart
A more personal deeply rooted poem about an exgirlfriend
I did a follow up to this called a bad case of nostalgia(2005)
please note sorry took off here tryed changeing in the end put back as was just changed title
is their to much rhyme i dont know
The Art of Black and White
The art of black and white photography…
Majestically, this art does not portray
Mixed colors to distract the viewer’s eyes
As they absorb the beauty on display.
The contrasts, boldest black and varied grays,
Can wake up eyes, with definitions deep
And crisp, to make strong statements that are felt…
While colors sometimes put the scene to sleep.
Emotions felt in black and white are keen…
Concreteness of the boundaries define,
While colors blend, their definitions lost
To mellow feelings by their soft design.
The photograph in black and white screams out
In purity of curves and lines that show
Intensity of form cut to the chase
By glow and brilliance seen on stark plateau.
Poetic, yes…the art of black and white
Photography, intense and clearly bold…
So dominates our view because this grand
Dimension offers beauty to behold.
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
~1st Place~
Contest: Black and White Film Photography
Sponsor: Giorgio, A.V.
Judged: 03/30/2015
Iambic Meter, 5 feet, Rhyme: abcb
.
She paints freely
Whenever she is around
Then draws briefly
Either a smile or frown
She's good at building texture
Less is more where it counts
She paints by numbers
When she's out and about
She wears a smock
So there's less of a mess
But when it comes to abstract hearts
No promises are kept
Mistakes are hard to erase
When using an angry oil base
She paints by numbers
Helping to cut to the chase
She makes you feel
Life is but surreal
With you as her medium
Nailed to her easel
Using you as her landscape
In her brushstrokes of give and take
She paints by numbers
The only way she can keep life straight
Towers and showers
You fall then you rise
Making love to the clouds
It's mundane you despise
Let's cut to the chase
Keep our words short today
I'm proud of this city
Perhaps 'nice one' you'd say
I think you are awesome
In the day or the night
As the faces peer up
Or peek out to the sight
Of industrious city
Laced with tramways and cars
With it's heroes and humour
Or it's battle strewn scars
On the surface you're hard
Always up for a fight
Dig deeper.. discover
A heartbeat, you might
Whether homeless or minted
Perhaps just passing through
Our Mancunian spirit
Is now running through you.