Long Deviates Poems

Long Deviates Poems. Below are the most popular long Deviates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deviates poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member far from Earth: two scifaiku

From "What is scifaiku: a manifesto"

"SciFaiku is a distinctive and powerful form of expression for science fiction. It packs all the human insight, technology, and vision of the future into a few poignant lines.

"SciFaiku is haiku and it is not haiku. It is driven by the inspiration and many of the principles of haiku, but it takes its own direction. It deviates, expands, and frees itself of haiku."

Two SciFaiku by Chetta Achara 

#1

far from mother Earth
Sol is just another star
in this alien sky

#2

far from Earth
am I too old to wish
on that shooting star

#2 published in HAIKU DIALOGUE – Looking Out – far from Earth – long list, The Haiku Foundation, 08/28/2024
Form: Haiku


But Tomorrow May Never Die

The soul reaps its rewards
as it is compromised 
as tomorrow never dies.

A faded glory...

Souls linger on, in either heaven 
nor Hell only Purgatory. 

Futures are left undone, never won
histories are full of things never known 
as tomorrow flies. 

The reapers machine needs its price 
paid in flesh and bone as tomorrow never dies. 

I see you tomorrow n the past of yesterday’s 
future furies and funerary rights. 

Nothing ever leaves it relocates and deviates. 
Matter, is not destroyed it only breaks on through 
to the other side, as days go n nights come...
the hands of the clock never slow.  

Eternity spent frozen in the light of infinity 
in thoughts faster than night, 
as tomorrows never die, 
they only come and go n fade slowly away.  

…and only the stain of history marks 
the passing storms as tomorrow may never fly! 

But, only fade slowly away...
     
                                ...each and every day…

                                          ...as Tomorrow May Never Die

Premium Member A School Massacre - a Repost

Forgive me but I just don't understand
What drives “people” to enter a school
Massacre forty young people
And burn their female teacher alive
It's beyond my comprehension
How an intelligent caring human being
Can willingly commit this atrocity
There lies the crux of the matter
They are NOT “intelligent caring human beings”
They are EVIL MONSTERS... period!
They don't belong to the HUMAN race!
They are freaks of nature
An anomaly... deviates from normal human behavior
Who have a totally warped sense of right and wrong
The lunatic fringe... THAT MUST BE STOPPED
At all costs... this cannot continue
This is NOT a normal human condition
Civilized people can fathom the depth
That these sub-humans will go to
As with the absolute majority of peace loving individuals
I am appauled beyond belief
I would like to say I'm speechless
Which is obviously not the case... this site is a forum
To express our absolute and utter rage
When these deviants commit these atrocities
IT'S A TOTALLY DISGUSTING OUTRAGE!!!

(a previous post)
Form: Narrative

Premium Member You'Re My Oasis

We meet in the glimmer of the emerald meadow,
you become the placid patina of the pearly dawn.
Even in twilight hour the golden day doesn’t end,
for you’re my sanguine sun that would never set.

While the flowers wither in my autumn garden,
you suffuse the scent of blossoms for the spring, 
when my yearning flitters like beguiled butterfly 
at the still edge of hued horizon that never fades.

In the voyage on tempestuous sea of forlorn life,
I don’t lose course searching for shore of longing. 
I shall reach its silver beach lapped by waves of joy, 
for you’re my alluring pole star that never deviates.

In the desiccated desert over the dunes of despair 
my parched heart never chases the mirage of fervor,
for my soul has found the fountain of lasting bliss
in the delightful oasis that you’ve become for me.

May 7, 2020
Contest : Regal Royal Relationships
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke

Premium Member The Striped Zebra

The art displayed by nature is a gift-
   sometimes not noticed in a passing glance.
To pause, look, and admire creates a shift
   as we observe this artwork- not by chance.

Yes, nature paints with its creative tools,
   those grand designs on species of the wild.
It never deviates from patterned rules-
   like how a Zebra's fancy coat is styled.

Amazing how those stripes, concentered-placed
   around the neck extend into its mane.
The inkblot images continue, traced;
   the balance of true symmetry, sustain.

The diamond shape of stripes upon its face
   and those that meet precisely, strait or flared,
reveal that God steers nature's brush with grace;
   how else could such perfection be declared?


December 4, 2021

Contest: You Select Again
Sponsor: Brian Strand


Allusion Over Realism

No question is harder than this alarming dialogue
must I completely forget each joy given to me? 
Fear is the adversary; it suggests I remain free:
no vision is equal to this imagination so vague!

It's a disadvantage to express beliefs that are rejected
by the masses manipulated by contrasting science, not faith;
they become invalided by bizarre minds lacking worth,
and they affect us with their derogative philosophy of creed!

When untruths are perceived as facts and truths as misconception,
we run the risk of irrationality and stand on the brink of confusion;
where's the authentic sense of reason that connects us to reality?
Be transformed by all invisible forces and you'll lose your sanity!

No prospective is clearer than the one that's ever present
and deviates us from the right course taken by old wisdom;
will we err by irrational wish, by naive reaction or foolish intent?
In this circle of extreme folly, we choose allusion over realism!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dark Hefting

My world had the same aspects as my life.
Its spaces were roughly the size of a fine ship. 
Its spirit was comparable to that of a wooden knife.
There are clouds and snow in the skies tied by a clip.

The motion of stars and galaxies in the universe
The elevators, rail lines, various planes, and donkeys.
A physical item rotates and returns to its source.
Our lives were full of topics that sought to address.

Witnessing people who lived long or short lives. 
At the same time, the extent of people" s ideals differ.
The difficulty "who do I desire to be as I grow up?".
The unusual answer was, "I view to focus on myself."

I'm stumbling through the darkness of ignorance.
People never acquire this away from their life on Earth.
They leave nothing behind except for their voice.
And corpses are buried deep underground after death.

I've lived and smiled; I've had a life and laughed around it.
It is firm to return and unmake errors that we made.
My focus is on the unseen; the scope of people's lives deviates.
My memory of the 500,000 corpses will never fade.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

THE GANGSTER, Spoken by the popular SILENT ONE


Appreciation:
A big thank you Silent One for your splendid narration of this poem.

THE GANGSTER

Through foreboding, whispering, wintery air
A woken Heron shrilly shrieks somewhere
Reflective iridescent gem in a gloomy stream
The gangster with a poetic heart dares to dream

A living testimony to deviates and lost souls.
Where seedy worth defines unsavoury roles.
Perceiving  her as a quintessence work of art
Fantasising a new start could transform his path

But his formidable foe of unbeatable might
Silently rejects him from  her soulless  sight
Scheming secrets spill, in the ruthless thrill,
While  Angels weep for innocents who sleep

Nearer to his mark, prey to her game
Shame, oh shame! Like a moth to the flame.
Though only murder glows in her beauteous glance
The  man gambles  chance at a shot at romance

The bar reeks of treachery and strife
Trust is sporadic in a gangster’s life
Romantic  interchange  in hidden codes
Not charmed by romance, a single shot explodes

In this world of corrupt  nights, where the energy dips
Between Jack Daniels sips, those sensuous  red lips

The Reaper is the dealer; Destiny seals
Every gangster bends to the very last deal


 An Art film
Art films often "bear the marks of a distinctive visual style" and the authorial approach of the director. An art cinema film often refuses to provide a "readily answered conclusion", instead putting to the cinema viewer the task of thinking about "how is the story being told?

Maria Williams©2024
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Have the Power of X-Ray Vision

I’m cursed since I have a specialty that I can see, 
X-ray vision is my power.
People often say one thing while doing another,
Preaching from their ivory tower.

“Man up!” we obeyed every command of our big English teacher, 
The biggest introvert.
And he’d wear a bright red bra, invisible to all but me, 
Under his blue striped business shirt.

“Live exactly by the bible in our great country” 
Our priest would drill into us every Sunday.
And I could see his beautiful knickers he wore under his pants, 
We all knew he was secretly gay.

And the local news anchor man loved to wear
His red garter belt beneath his black suit top.
I think it was the same brand my barber wore 
When I got my hair cut at the local barber shop.

We all trust our local paramedic, saving our lives
When we are most in need of his care.
I can see he loves us dearly, loves to feel comfortable too,
With the silk stockings he chooses to wear.

And when we prosecute the deviates, whores, and filth
We entrust our judges in our courts.
Our local judge loves to prosecute wearing, beneath his gown,
Hot pink singlets and hot pink shorts.

And during his speeches, to our elected few,
About gays not marrying during his political reign.
He wears his G-string made of metal sequence, 
The leader of our country looks sexy in chain.

I’m cursed since I have a special power I dare not tell anyone,
I have the power of x-ray vision.
It’s easy to see which men who say “don’t”, secretly “do”, 
And which men need circumcision.
Form: Quatrain

Use Time Like Clock

Clock is
always working.
It lives every moment.
Doesn't waste even a second.
Live each second like clock,
enjoying each 
moment.

Clock is
thoughtless and calm.
Mind at the task in front.
While at work emulate the clock.
Employ all sense organs,
enjoy moment
in hand

Clock is
detached, serene.
It keeps ticking non-stop.
Nothing deviates it's focus.
It teaches we can be
perfect if we're
steadfast

If we 
do all our jobs
full day like a clock, then
we will have perfectly blissful
life, full of joy and peace.
Living, not just
alive!


25.05.2021

Note : Heptastich is a poetic form with syllable count of 2,4,6,8,6,4,2
Syllable count checked at PS syllables counter

Submitted to
Contest Name : Time
Sponsor	: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Premier contest winner 6th position

Resubmitted to
Constance La France
''T'' Contest, New or
Form: Verse

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