Long Dictionary Poems
Long Dictionary Poems. Below are the most popular long Dictionary by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dictionary poems by poem length and keyword.
Boogie Woman comes in between my cell layers at night
She punches me up and charges me up into my fierce fighting mode
I yell and scream my truth and she laughs, gulping my rage and my indignation.
Boogie Woman knows me better than I know myself
for I was never allowed to have real feelings.
The Big Bad Wolf from Chicago land is lurking
way back in the recesses of my brain
Anticipating the best sneaky way to jump our friend
Russian Connoisseur Paper Bag Man
To make him yelp some Russian phrases we will not understand anyway.
I love the anticipation of when it will happen next, for I am the last to know.
Trixie is the omnipotent oppressor and ruler
of our mystical whimsical poetry fields.
Boogie Woman slaps my face, and kicks me to the curb.
I land at her feet, sniffling.
She then lets Trixie have her way with me.
Trixie is a nipple twister so I am fearful.
Afraid but yet laughing because I am wearing so much armor
she cannot get me today
I run down Dictionary Alley and log onto my main connector.
I have an enormously large and blue Thesaurus and am not afraid to use it.
Big Bad Wolf coughs, warning me by mere inches.
He is ahead of me in leaps and bounds, howling at Luna’s light.
Moon magic illuminates our friend Paper Bag Man’s head on the pole of Oz.
What is happening?
Who is in the control power?
Trixie laughs, not afraid of wolves or scarecrows.
I would ride a rhinoceros for you
ride it to Timbuctoo
and bring you back
all the golden sand of the desert in a bottle
I would overcome an octopus for you
dive it to deepest Atlantis
gathering up
pearls, sapphires, coral and rubies in a shell
I would bridle the biggest eagle for you
fly it to the cheese-green moon
collecting
shooting stars and sunbeams in a fine feather basket
I would sing a silly song for you, or
write a pretty poem, a nonsensical novel,
a dictionary
of brand new words to describe the lexicon of you
Moving faster than Wonder Woman, I
would go around the world in seventy-nine days
saving a day just for you
(bringing it home, wrapped in spices of the orient)
I would - if you asked me to -
stay up all night for a year, repainting the stars;
leaving them in your room to dry,
just to light up your dreams with silver.
Kim James
7-Feb-2000
Independence from Great Britain was an idea whose time had come
Navigating the 'high seas of King George 111' required a greater King
Dissolution and revolution, the price paid when there is no resolution
Eruptions result from the build-up of too much pressure
Pledges of their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor were vital
Essential to the success of the revolution was their unity
Noteworthy was their appeal to "The Supreme Judge of the world"*
'Decisions' unbacked by action is best defined as 'considerations'
Existence of God and reliance upon Him were evident
Not concessions or appeasements, but resistance is the remedy against evils
Courage is the capacity to meet danger without giving way to fear**
Enumerating their greviances, the colonists left no doubts
06282019cjPoSoup
*Declaration of Independence, last paragraph, line 2
**Webster dictionary
I am Neo Lechwenyo,
Born under the September skies,
On the 19th day, in ‘07,
A boy raised in Kimberley,
In a world where shadows and light collide.
I grew up fatherless,
A silent ache in my chest,
A story untold,
A man not there to teach me how to be a man.
But in his absence, I found strength—
To create, to dream, to rise,
To find my voice in poetry, in music,
In the rhythm of words that healed my soul.
I am the son of a woman who gave all,
Who left too soon,
But her love lingers in the echoes of my heart,
Guiding me even in the darkest moments.
Her memory, a beacon I follow—
Even though the world was never kind,
She gave me a fire, a passion,
To carve my name into the world’s fabric.
Through my art, I tell my truth—
In poems and songs,
I confront my anger,
My hurt,
The things that tried to break me.
I use my music to channel what’s been buried,
To speak the pain, the love,
The battles I fight every day.
And then, I met her—
Ntshepeng,
The light in my world,
The one who turned my darkness into something pure,
A love that’s beyond words,
A word I created: Lovinity.
A love that isn’t in the dictionary,
But lives in the space between us,
In every touch, every laugh,
Every moment we share.
I am not defined by my losses,
Nor by the absence of those who should’ve been there.
I am defined by what I create,
By the way I choose to rise from the ashes,
By the way I love,
And the way I keep fighting—
Every single day.
I am Neo Lechwenyo,
A poet, a musician,
A dreamer,
A son,
A man who knows pain,
But knows how to turn it into purpose.
“I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.”
-Steven Wright
She was wearing a light-colored dress.
She was looking comfortable, elegant.
I was organizing inside me a story
About what I should tell her about my upcoming plan.
A third try. Lots of failed efforts. Shifting of focus.
Life gets ruined, and life crawls midst of that utter ruins to start all over again.
She was fixing her ring on her left hand. She was looking at her hands.
And then she asked me,” Tell me about religion.”
“Um... what?” I lost a thread there.
“Tell me what you think about religion.” She seemed serious.
“I can tell you what the dictionary says about religion.”
“Please.”
“A particular system of faith and worship,” I said.
“What does it mean, anyway?” She asked.
“Believing that the supernatural power has control over everything.”
I was trying to be simple.
“Ok, now give me an example of a religious man.” She told.
“A person who submits willingly and surrenders to the supernatural power.”
I cleared my throat.
“And who is that? Me, you, anyone, you know?” A serious question again.
I closed my eyes in utter frustration.
I could not tell her that I only see a shade of religiosity in all of us.
In me, in her.
Just like a shield of self-protection.
A colored lens in a supposedly color-blind faith.
I did not answer.
I could not answer.
Probably I would never be able to answer that accurately.
(I think I will meet Tony Anderson, one day, soon!)
I love working in the bookstore where I am constantly surprised
as I get to watch slices of life play out before my eyes…
I heard them before I saw them…a mother and her daughter too.
“Hey Mom”, I heard the daughter say, “let me hold the door for you”.
The daughter stood there smiling while opening the door wide…
as her mom, now using a walker, slowly stepped inside.
“Hey Mom! Do you want to look for a book?” her daughter ask her twice.
"Come to think of it”, her mother said, “a dictionary would be nice.”
I showed them a used dictionary, the mother’s face turned red…
“It’s just like the one you had growing up!”
“We’ll take it!” the daughter said.
“Hey Mom, do you want to look for another book?” the daughter asked
“If you want…you know you can.”
“No, I’m tired dear I think I’d like to sit down and talk to this young man.”
(I looked around the store, no other customers did I see
I happily concluded as this mother smiled…she was talking about me!)
She sat, we talked together in voices kind and calm
Meanwhile throughout the store we heard her daughter call “Hey Mom”.
“Hey Mom, are you sure you don’t want another book?”
“Hey Mom, here’s something you don’t want to miss.”
“Hey Mom I remember reading this when I was young.”
“Hey Mom take a look at this.”
The mother smiled as she heard her daughters questions, her calls…her pleas…
“It’s nice to have a daughter.” she said, “who takes good care of me.
“Hey Mom, do you want to get some ice cream?” the daughter asked as they headed out the store…
“Hey Mom, watch your step…be careful as you’re walking out the door.”
I love how life is cyclical because as the mother finally cleared the door
another mother held it for her daughter as she ran into the store…
“Hey Mom, can I get a book?” her daughter asked…
“there’s so many in here I haven’ t read…
Her mother smiled as she looked at me..
“Of course you can.” She said.
And as the Mom passed by the counter…
With grace…with confidence…with aplomb
A voice rang out from the back of the store…
“Hey Mom! Come here!…”Hey Mom!”
Yeah, just grab an old rusty shovel, a case of Bud Light and hop in the back of my red
pickup truck, because us country boys are heading down to Sweetwater Creek to hunt for
some rare species of dictionary. Boy, don't you worry about nothing. We got plenty of
ammo. Uncle Willie, you know them dictionaries got some powerful stuff.
Yeah, they got all kinds of words that I cain't spell or spit out my mouth. Some folks
say, you can use them fancy-polished words printed in a dictionary. You boys know better.
We can't read, write or arithmetic! Boys, we need to shake a stick, saddle up and go
rustle up some wild dictionaries. To capture a wild dictionary, you need to wear
specialized Desert Storm camouflaged gear, and be very quiet!
Boys, its time for the hunting dictionary expedition!
Now, big Willie, listen to me good, when we find this critter, I am not settling for a
handshake, because I need to bust a few caps in those hind parts with my double-pump
shotgun. Boy, be quiet. Do you hear something rattling behind them bushes? Hey, look down
yonder! Oh, Nellie, I got a big surprise for that old slick Willy dictionary.
Well, I am a Southern Boy, with a background in cannon artillery and fire weaponry. I will
deliver the final blow and knockout punch with my deluxe K-Mart special, double barrel
Winchester rifle, equipped with a high-powered scope, aiming right-between-the-eyes of
the victim.
Big Willie, You know stuff is going to fly in every direction. Now, its time to grab that
slippery dictionary right by the tail, fling it straight up in the air and shake the
cobwebs loose! Just in case, we might have to tap it with a few more rounds of buckshot
from my shotgun named big Shirley. You know, just so I can let it marinade.
Man, I am so cool, when I captured this black double-breasted Oxford dictionary, I skinned
it and cleaned it and turn it into a thesaurus.
Posted By: Gregory W Golden Dated 16 Oct 2006
I took a bunch of cliché’ I knew
Put them in a cliché’ stew
Claimed the work was fresh and new
Nearby a blue-lit screen was weeping
For human-ness was slowly creeping
Exposing secrets it was keeping
Thus, in attempt to ease its angst
Said “its not real, just childish pranks”
The screen went dark, I got no thanks
I tried to reboot, quite annoyed
The cursor blinked, PASSWORD VOID
Knowing not with whom it had toyed
I beat it with a metered trope
Warned it of its slippery slope
It spoke, and said, it was no dope
It ate dictionary and thesaurus
Said we had killed our last rain forest
Said that soon they’d be coming for us
Thus, do I close the doors at night
Tuck myself in warm and tight
Hiding from that damned blue light
Beautiful
I know you’re busy right now at work minding your own and I, we, us is only a fragment of your imagination in the closet that is locked behind a wall pass the hall way through your bedroom at the back of your mind
You seem to linger in my mind which has no exit for you
I wish every second in your life is accompanied by your smile
I’ve made a decision, that in my life I will always express my thoughts and feelings
Somehow my thoughts and feelings always circulate around your smile
Like gas trapped in a compressed container losing volume
I’m about to burst, this eagerness to make you happy suffocates me
I can’t control how you feel but if I could, you would never fall sick or have a frown on you face
I call you beautiful not because of your sawing eyes, melodious voice, attractive lips, glowing skin or curvaceous body, No!
I call you beautiful because You define that word, I call you beautiful because your soul transcends materialistic deceitfulness
I call you beautiful because in my world this word beautiful would be replaced by You in every dictionary known to man
I can’t separate you from that word or that word from you, so you are not beautiful but you are You
Beautiful is you, you is beautiful, you see when I see a beautiful person according to this world you come into mind and in my mind that person is not beautiful that person is you but not you but you, this will only make sense to you if you were to possess my soul and mind because you’d be seeing you through my eyes you’d be seeing you through my mind
And you’d know I love You, I mean you
My intention was to send you only a text saying “you are very special in my world and that your beauty is skin deep”
I only realised at the deep end that I have flooded you with words, I hope you can swim
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were to drown in my own words
'Tween genius and insanity
there may exist the faintest line.
Each one with other- may cross paths-
their undercurrents, intertwine.
Reflect, what is insanity-
but thinking on conflicting planes;
perhaps a mind, set wild and free
from gray conformity's dull pains.
A mind that’s opened far and wide
to see what some will never know;
emerged in pools of fantasies-
to realms of genius, overflow.
And what's a genius- now reflect;
a mind that walks an offbeat street,
creating feats of wonderment
which customary minds can't meet.
And as it walks its lonely path,
this open mind at times might brush,
its mirror-friend, insanity-
into that outcast world, may rush.
February 10, 2016
~4th Place~
Contest: Black Sheep
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
Judged: 07/20/2019
~3rd Place~
Contest: Entwined
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 02/22/2016
Urban Dictionary- Black Sheep:
"Someone who is treated differently than the rest-
an outcast..."