Long Diction Poems
Long Diction Poems. Below are the most popular long Diction by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Diction poems by poem length and keyword.
I need to apologise,
To sweet Deb M,
In my poem about vegemite,
I showed my age again.
As I have mentioned many times,
I am 84,
I can see the old folk's home,
Opening it's doors,
To welcome this old duck in
Because, of course, this ancient one,
Has committed another sin,
I said I was a Viking,
Instead of a vixen,
It rhymed with Viking
So much for my diction,
I was a Viking throughout the rhyme, you see,
Although a Grey wolf Vixen
Is what I'd rather be,
Grey wolf Vixens are elegant,
My fellow Vixens,
Only do what's relevant,
Waving our flag gaily in the air,
Advertising Vegemite,
They wanted Marmite banned there,
The elegant Vixen ate her vegemite from a spoon,
Only one tasty teaspoon made this old Vixen swoon.
P S Well, sweet Deb M,
I trust this is to your liking,
I am, a grey old, Vixen,
Not a crazy ancient Viking.
The mocking is shocking
Aunty Mavis stopped rocking
Then mourners were flocking
A cavalcade blocking
The streets of South Dorking
Rumours and talking
Like vultures out squawking
Proportionate baulking
Reputation ignoring
So boring, I'm snoring
The eulogy diction
Precise in it's fiction
The perfect life stitched on
Close the sale, get the pitch done
Now the coffin is sliding
The red curtain slow gliding
Velvet box soon residing
On a mantle piece hiding
It's a travesty clearly
Distant relatives merely
Hanging round for a number
Pass the bread and cucumber
Social etiquette blunder
Now poor Mave is asunder
The circus is closing
Uncle Sid is left dozing
With sandwiches curling
The world keeps on whirling
Lesson learned: be a spender
Be a builder, defender
A love fight contender
Not reciever, but sender
All that thrift doesn't render
A relationship mender
Remember, remember
God decides where to send ya
When it's goodnight Vienna
Sam Scott
24th September 2023
The Queen has a navy
That floats in her gravy,
It’s sharp and its clear,
But it’s sure tough to steer,
For the rudders get stuck
In that thick, grayish muck,
And the lads in the stern
Have a penchant to yearn
For the bright shining waters
All popping with otters,
Yet they smile as they sail past
Her Majesty’s repast,
And wink as they think
That they’d better not sink,
For if sailors go down
In the gravy, they’ll drown,
And you can’t hear them yelp
Through the lard for some help,
And therefore it’s wise
On the ship to keep eyes,
And they sail towards a biscuit
And think that they’ll risk it,
‘Midst butters and jams,
And kippers and clams,
On a crumbly crag
Raise Her Majesty’s flag,
And with hearts beating proud
Face the smiling crowd,
For a deed large or small,
It is better than all,
If it’s done with conviction,
Not merely good diction,
And protecting the table,
Or more, if you’re able,
Brings honor unseen
To country and Queen.
( Thinking of poets whom I like to commend, so many faces come crowding to my mind. But as I am restricted to choose only three, I would list them as my preferences agree. )
Constance La France- a poet of fire in her heart
One of the best on Soup, mesmerizes me with her art
Though all her dear ones were taken away from life
Through her poems, she births life, despite her strife
Vijay Pandit - a gentleman of no pretense
Is blessed with poetic talents immense
As a newbie, he has been one of the first to encourage me
Through steady support, still gives me much glee
Lasaad- aka Sotto Poet, composer of esoteric verse
Writes in lofty diction on topics diverse
Only a few, to his poetic style, can equate
Possesses a rare command of vocabulary so ornate!
Dec. 19.2022
~ Placed First~
Who is Your Best PS Poet or Poetess Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet
The music is low, as the pages unfold
A dusty worn novel, on bent-spinal shores
These classic old books, are my treasures of gold
A narrative story, with mystery's core
Latitude England, heavy with multitudes
of somber descriptions, and fictional lore
Chapters reread, opened with gratitude
Moldy with knowledge, elegant diction
Read once again, revises new attitudes
Timeless depictions are viewed with conviction
I find new adventures while reading each phrase
Loving old heroines, claims my addiction
My own place to spend time and ponder the maze
and to find some conclusion, left in a daze
___________________________________________________
For "A Vice You Love" contest
Sponsor Rob Carmack
.
Type these questions(vide infra, exactly...you'll be entertained) on Google(no dictionary.com) simply type in on Google's 'search bar' mine fellows...why for instance; try looking up Senryu or Monoku, y'all will not find them on Dictionary.com., along with many other words. Thesaurus.com is overwhelming though, it even has words that Dictionary.com has not.
1) whut wuz julez vern'z best write
2) iz Chineze a race or nationality
3) whut action hero had nervz uv steel
4) how many werdz are in a haiku
Google will answer these questions
Next to words in the dictionary, they show the phonetic pronunciations.
Rest assured, i eets my oatmeal with the fork ;)
Also, i do not walk earth, speaking words as "mine, yourn, ourn, theirn,
eyne". Unlike Author Wordsworth, I'll never insult an author's poetic diction!
My "poetic diction" is, the sound 'ine'...it does funny things to my cerebrum. ;)
I use this technique with many words, as y'all learn me; realization of these trues, will, i'm certain amuse y'all. I plead the 5th, I mean, artistic license *)
hern-ourn-theirn-eyne....All in the dictionary
I think y'all trust me now
;) p.s...apologeeez for the frenetic
Make love to me with
your poem, your poetry.
Flow slowly do not rush it.
not so fast.
Let your words last.
Stroke me slowly
Put your back into it.
Caress my totality
Draw me into your world
let me succumb –
To your glib poetic tongue.
I hear your commands
As you slowly express
how capable you are
Expanding my mind
taking me places I've never been
Firmly holding me in the grips
of your suspense.
I was tense
Waiting for the end – you, let me
down gently as your poem ended.
I bask in the aftermath of a poetry bath
Thinking of the ecstasy of
where your poetry took me.
I let down my hair because
you swoon creativity
I get off on your enunciation
and affections- inflections
Word erections-sensitivity
and vulnerability;
Allowing me to feel every word-
as you speak slowly…
you enter me with your "diction".
Slow and easy you speak to me
Stroking me with your poetry...
You took me to peaks
of ecstasy with your
sweet glib tongue
and that's why
I let you make ...
Make sweet Poetry to me…
Written: December 2, 2025, for contest by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
**********************
It begins as an antiphon—
ubiquitous call—ominous retort
betwixt depth of marrow and ethereal sky mist,
amid the gelid nimbus of solitude
and the vibrant, exuberant surge
of your presence.
You are the guide of my steep slope,
leading me away from lifeless despair.
to zenith’s luculent luster.
Your mellifluous sobriquet
festoons my threadbare silence,
a rhapsody against the noisome palaver
of the world’s officious slogans.
I wobble in despair,
but I wake up when you tell me to—
perseverance turns into symbiosis,
and my healing heart smudges
the sacred diction of touch
once again.
Love pulls akin chiaroscuro,
a janiform force:
one face of catharsis,
one of hubris,
Yet both sanctified
in amaranthine flame.
You exculpate my imbroglio,
untangle the fastidious knots
of my ossified fears.
Even in the dismal cloudscape,
your intrepid light
spasmodically festoons
My wilted petiole of hope.
I humiliate before this sanctity,
yet rise gamesome,
gregarious,
intrepid—
an ergate in your hive,
a viceroy in your kingdom.
The zeitgeist evanesces,
otiose burdens fall away,
and I disport in your eleemosynary grace.
Even hornswoggle and yarborough
cannot undo the synchronicity
that binds us.
Love pulls—
ubiquitous, unabated,
a hecatomb of solitude,
a panegyric of symbiosis,
a luculent valediction
to the moribund self.
And so I prowl again.
In your cimmerian,
I find sanctity.
In your treacle,
I taste eternity.
In your amaranthine pull,
I am beloved.
A newly shaped poem is composed
Of themes both rare and common.
The poet’s thoughts, it is supposed
Will flow to paper without caution.
Of themes both rare and common-
Candid expressions, as pebbles upon the water hurled,
Will flow to paper without caution.
Unstructured elements mingled together in a whirl.
Candid expressions, like pebbles on the water hurled,
First ideas spill forth uncurbed.
Unstructured elements mingled together in a whirl
Wildly unreasonable, ludicrous, even absurd.
First ideas spill forth uncurbed
A tumult of hysteria, an outburst of facts and fantasy
Wildly unreasonable, ludicrous, even absurd,
Until (like magic) the figment’s purpose becomes reality.
A tumult of hysteria, an outburst of facts and fantasy,
The dreamer slows her crazed word play,
Until (like magic) the figment’s purpose becomes reality
And the poet’s whimsies an elemental form displays.
The dreamer slows her crazed word play.
The hard work now begins.
And the poet’s whimsies an elemental form displays,
Time to focus on imagery, sound, and rhythm.
The hard work now begins.
From the jumble, selected words must “pack a punch.”
Focus on imagery, sound, and rhythm,
Tone, diction, and structure -must consider much.
From the jumble, selected words must “pack a punch.”
A newly shaped poem is composed.
Tone, diction, and structure -must consider much.
Intentional placements- lines and phrases transposed.
It’s been an entertaining afternoon
Playing with a Pantoum
Michelle Waters
Nov. 27, 2023
My way (edited)
the three famous tenors sang, MY-Way
the fat one died, and the two others
hates each other
never appear in public together
One looks like an aging matinee idol
the other
suffers from being mobbed at school, looks
scared, has nightmares, and often takes to tears
I still like Frank Sinatra's version looks
relaxed, sings with clear diction
like a man going home after a night in a bar
Alas, he is also dead
My- Way is about human hubris,
we think we are masters of our destiny
but we blow along
where the wind, like autumn, leaves on an asphalt
of fortune takes us.
Thinking back (can afford to)
I never got a thing
my way just as good, I could not handle winning
the highest price, it would make me feel absurd
Yet, I dance tango in Buenos Aires
54 years ago, the applause still rings,
in my ears