Long Difficulty Poems
Long Difficulty Poems. Below are the most popular long Difficulty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Difficulty poems by poem length and keyword.
Voluntary unconditional surrender woke...,
Viz hitting yours truly,
when yokel egghead doth jinx
whereby ye cannot comprehend figurative
wimpy vainglory, unequivocally, tectonically,
smoldering resentments I stoke,
he doth bare his soul no joke,
no matter insight doth severely challenge
cyber surfing passersby, who attempt
to interpret courtesy
mental torture doth invoke
brutality, difficulty, futility gobbledygook,
heavily taxing your fifty
plus shades of gray
I apologetically, grudgingly (ha),
painstakingly, unwittingly... poke,
when mine broadcast
red by anonymous folk
admittedly poetically trumpeting ambiguity
overlain donned with high falutin cloak
peace be with thee courtesy this bloke.
Electronic date/time stamp permeates
within copious, illustrious,
and porous corpus callosum
hemispheric spongy sinks
mister re: mysterious as Sphinx
validation indubitably backfires
invariably induces loosed
unicellular sized rat finks
cerebral blackout courtesy
one to many drinks,
envision sucker punched by
rockin sockin robots one named
Muhammad Ali t'other Leon Spinks,
or gordian knotted cognitive kinks
bajillion befuddled blinks,
albeit feeble analogy methinks
to render genuine concomitant
convoluted, mangled, twisted... (think
Möbius strip) sentiment
specifically linkedin with
sincere appreciation meant
pertaining to this gent
despite slight trepidation
as faux Geico petsmart agent
forced celibate nun sensical chap
considering entering convent
cloistered existence remaining
days of my life get spent,
where "15 minutes
might save me, not so shabby decent
15% or more on car insurance."
Paraphrase aforementioned Matt Speak
more easily succinctly understood,
versus gibberish as ????????
(i.e. the word Greek spelled in Greek)
essentially long in the tooth fella
self anointed literate sheikh
feeble flattered fungi with
average mushroom shaped physique
trends towards playfulness
in tandem with harmless streak
merely acknowledges how his unique
self expression oft times
tongue-in-cheek
experiences giddiness at unsolicited
positive feedback versus he/she,
who doth bitingly, flagrantly,
outrageously, witheringly... critique
modesty misunderstood equivalent
of poetic (peekaboo) hide and seek
to Dani body hook ken find me
game to reveal me re: hide and seek.
By Lora Colon and Brian Johnston
Original Poem: Lord, How Hard Could It Be? by Lora Colon of PoemHunter.com
Lord, if you're the Essence of Love,
Why do you find such difficulty
In answering my simple prayer
To send a love with whom to share
Each new day of life you grant to me?
You leave me baffled by this mystery,
Tell me, Lord, how hard could it be?
Your sunsets, Lord, are breathtaking,
A small measure of your grand design,
Splendor painted across the skies,
Healing chrism for pain-filled eyes,
Proof of a Creator most Divine;
But why has no love been designed for me?
Tell me, Lord, how hard could it be?
The night crowns the mountains with stars,
No royalty could claim such rare gems,
Reaching upward though they may try
To snatch Heaven's jewels from the sky,
Earth's stones must adorn their diadems;
Can you not forge a crown of love for me?
Tell me, Lord, how hard could it be?
Trees proudly raise their brawny arms,
Designed by your mercy and your might,
Where weary birds find peace and rest,
A secure venue for their nest,
A stage for their anthems at twilight;
Am I not worthy of such charity?
Tell me, Lord, how hard could it be?
You tend to Earth's necessities,
Yet, you're blind to the needs of your child,
Returning tides embrace the shore,
Winds uplift the birds as they soar,
Yet, from Eden I remain exiled;
Do my needs transcend your ability?
Tell me, Lord, how hard could it be?
December 29, 2016
Echo Poem: In Praise of Praise by Brian Johnston
All your poetry documents longing and loss
And your words spin us all in a heavenly daze,
For they seem to attract many souls who agree,
It seems misery’s message does have special charm.
Makes me smile on occasion, as my poetry
Struggles mostly alone in desire to sing praise,
Is it strange I’m not nursing a love/hate for sauce,
Or that I am not ready to give up the farm?
My concern here’s that misery causes a freeze,
Causes focus that limits your world view to “you!”
Might not “unanswered prayer” be an answer that’s kind?
Where’s your empathy showing God’s love is remiss?
Is the presence of pain “lack of love” in your mind,
Does He mean it to punish or make us review?
Are you missing the forest by looking at trees?
Can “Love” be more than this: World that “leads” you to bliss?
March 23, 2017
More free advice to those* who would be King from the THIRUK-KURAL with notes
[*like presidents, prime ministers, dictators of declining (falling or fallen) nations]
K386: kaadchikku eliyan kaduñchollan allanaal
miikkuurum mannan nilam
Where king is easy of access, where no harsh word repels,
That land's high praises every subject swells. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
The whole world will exalt the country of the king who is easy of access, and whose words are without harshness. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Where at royal audience all may attend a king gentle of voice and mien*,
That kingdom's praises all will sing. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* recourse to threats and reprisals can only undermine the good name of the land]
K429: viyavatka eññaantrum thannai
nayavatka nantri payavaa vinai
Never indulge in self-complaisant mood,
Nor deed desire that yields no gain of good. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
Let not a king praise himself, at any time;
let him not desire to do useless things. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
(The king) should neither blow his own horn
Nor occupy himself with acts* that bring in no corn. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* like building a porous wall on borrowed cash while tens of millions of the poor sick die in pain, EVEN IF AMERICA will wake up some day to realize that he was after all right about the measures he's wanting to take over IMMIGRATION, unless everybody wants the kind of irreversible situation FRANCE and GERMANY are going through.]
K454: manaththu ulathupOlak kaadti oruvat
inaththula thaakum arivu
Man's wisdom seems the offspring of his mind;
'Tis outcome of companionship we find. (Tranls. G.U. Pope)
The knowledge of a man, while it appears to be from his mind is (really) from his associates. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
[(The king) who makes as if his words (and ideas)* emanate from within himself, (the contrary being the case) will find it difficult to conceal their true source(s). (Transl T. Wignesan)]
[* A king who has difficulty expressing himself in the "King's English" and whose repertoire of epithets is mostly limited to: "terrific", "terrible", "horrible", "horrific", "wonderful", "tremendous" along with threatening phrases like "watch my words" would do well to ask the ghost-writers to step forward and take a bow.]
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
No bull in the proverbial china shop
but of the astrological skies
you’d ride bareback upon the animal
assured by its strength and muscular form
Ruled by Venus and of the second house
A feminine introvert or negative sign
A lover of all things nature and natural
Earth, loyal and faithful but needs stability
Although stubborn enough to charge at one disturbing the peace
Fulfilling the senses with beauty
Neck and throat sensitive and strong (aim affection here!)
Homely content, liking the comforts of life
Attracted to material things in simplest form
although from senses – tactile or pleasing to eye
Naturally practical likes comfortable space for home and work
Food clothes music and linen of importance
for ‘things’ are of value, money and those not materialistic
Sensation more important than feelings and thought
A Taurean can appear boring to others
Practical and sensible in approach
Basing life on the real not imagined
Not willing to take unecessary risk
nor put foundations that are solid in jeopardy
Happy with stability and simplicity so long as functional
Not to be distracted and not exceptionally clever
You get to where you want to be through determination
Always needing the tools to get back to basics and build
A feminine introvert or negative sign
Life is good, ruled by Venus sensual and simple
In Venus Taurus is about physical and idealistic love, arts and beauty
Patient, reliable warmhearted and caring nature
One determined and persistant, a creative, placid creature
Needs watch health especially throat, repiratory, abscess and rheumatism
Stubborness and inflexibility can sometimes be issue
Possessive and relentlessness yet loving
Law abiding and somewhat hostile with change
Witty and practical, faithful and generous to friends
More than averagely loving and very self-conscious
Fixed in opinion down to experience and acceptable patterns
Steadfast, just and firm when faced with difficulty
These are not afraid of dirty hands nor shy of hard work
At best in positions of trust and responsibility
Strength is sensible outlook on life
Weakness of being unable to accept less than you can achieve
Seeing is believing
and because the feet are firmly on the ground
others will come to this sign for advice
as they plod along taking only what is needed to survive
Morbid fascination (mine) as covid-19 pandemic...
foments rampant monopoly on bedlam
Wreaking ball (his stick) havoc (think ostensible
civil war scale not seen since Vietnam),
whereby microorganisms jamb
*****sapiens immunity system
complements of gook
resembling green eggs and ham
necessitating Doctor Seuss
to stoke bram
bullying cat in the hat
on a hot tin roof damn
senseless cant be understood
Matthew Scott Harris argot sham
bulls (red dilly), and sallies forth
with neither reason only rhyming flimflam.
All Joe King aside - at any rate,
yours truly, (a generic garden variety reprobate),
not hell bent to receive nasty hate
male courtesy vexatious reader to berate,
cuz unwelcome chide and chime
prompts gnome mad tick versifier
to test (ease silly) to provoke ye to fulminate.
Humanity now fishtails helter skelter
across oblate spheroid courtesy coronavirus
global pandemonium unleashed
expletive maniacal tsunami
(think) metaphorical groundswell
primates hurry scurry to and fro,
hither and yon frenziedly
pell-mell housing random erratic
discombobulated, bobble headed
(simulating) quasi Brownian movements
at warp speed embarked
upon impossible mission.
Here I paraphrase (er... rather plagiarize)
President John F. Kennedy,
whereby he delivered on January 20, 1961
his inaugural address in which he announced
"we shall pay any price, bear any burden,
meet any hardship, support any friend,
oppose any foe to assure the survival
and success of liberty."
Though the then USSR
(Union of Soviet Socialist Republics),
now identified as
union of Soviet socialist republics
helped cook who nurse (and ratchet)
state of political hostility
existed between Soviet bloc countries
and US-led Western powers
from 1945 to 1990.
Our present crisis I aim(ed) to show touché
(pardon mum oddest tee) culinary poetic entree,
how bajillions of people mercilessly
unfairly subjected to influenza like agony
exhibiting following symptoms:
cough, fever, tiredness, difficulty breathing
(severe cases), yet
many met their untimely demise
with prompt care, nonetheless minimal delay
ferried them to awaiting quay
where Charon doth ferry
dead souls across Rivers Styx and Acheron
resignedly where forced to abandon treasures they
must relinquish all trapping he/she did parlay.
I would like to talk about the coronavirus which has caused so many of us to agonize
I will stay away from politics except to say…it has made some people act unwise.
Instead I would like to stay closer to home…after all home is where I’ve had to be
and talk instead how this coronavirus has been effecting me.
This pandemic has seized many things we used to take for granted and put them out of reach…
On the plus side we have spent more time in our kayaks and on walks along the beach.
I haven’t enjoyed wearing a mask…living in this kind of artificial bubble.
but if one person is saved because I wear it…it’s totally worth the trouble.
I’ve hated social distancing…I miss hugging…for goodness sake
I even attended a Zoom birthday party where I could only see the cake!
The wear and tear on our car is better…since we only travel to the store.
and my hands as well as my jeans and shorts have been washed more than ever before.
This pandemic has stopped us from going to the movies…
something we used to do religiously…
Apparently now we’ll watch anything…even the Tiger King…that’s showing on TV.
We are exercising, doing more puzzles and reading…mysteries, novels…almanacs
anything to keep us healthy and our minds sharp as a tack.
Because this pandemic has effected our memory…
for instance…any show we watched when this pandemic began…you know…way back when.
we’ve already forgotten what happens in them and so we get to watch them again and again!
Deborah says it’s not the pandemic…we’re just getting old…but her theory I must poo-poo
I’d rather look at all my faults…and blame them on the flu.
Forget where I put my glasses…walk into a room and can’t remember why…
have difficulty getting out of a chair…feeling a little less spry…
These have nothing to do with old age..I believe it’s academic
when it comes to problems such as these…I blame them on the pandemic.
And I’ve noticed Deborah doesn’t laugh at my jokes as much as she used to…
It’ can’t be that I’m not as funny…and I hate to start another unfounded rumor
but apparently this pandemic can effect a person’s sense of humor!
In conclusion as we are experiencing something in our lifetime
we’ve never experienced before…
I know this coronavirus will win its share of battles…
but we’re determined to win the war.
Your Pain will be temporary but eternal glory awaits
You will rise to the top through heavens pearly white gates
You will tell the whole world how low for you life became
And just like a phoenix how you rose from the flame
you have been chosen to lead one of god’s special tribes
so trust in whats happening and in the words that you scribe
your tribulations and trials you bravely took on yourself
so when your army descended they’d always have a good health
you’ll feel every emotion from fear love hate and elation
these are your most precious gifts for you to share with the nation
I will bless your loving family with a strength from up high
To hear truth in your voices and see trust in your eyes
A special blessing i’ll bestow upon each one of you
So precious and powerful trusted in just a few
My dear brother Andrew live your life to this rule
A foolish man rides a stallion but the learned a mule
So tell me how much worse it gets so I can be prepared
My worry is i’ll go to far and that’s what makes me scared
Difficulty seeing who’s a friend or a foe
Letting intrigue beat sense which hardly leads to a no
I feel crowded in an empty room and deafened by no sound
My brain is playing hide and seek but logic can’t be found
Im tired each and every day from building my defence
To shield the world from what I feel
inside that’s so intense
Stop and listen to my voice that I shall send to thee
If then I feel your true desire my presence you will see
A promise made upon thy name and never will be broken
The time when peace resides within your ears will hear what’s spoken
You plan your life around a clock that only has one hand
use guess work in the times in life to run or when to stand
As efforts are misplaced and focused in the wrong direction
Your children are in desperate need of there dads protection
This will last for a moment but a vital part of your lifes plan
So cast your eyes far and wide and take in all that you can
Your mind shall repair and your strength be restored
Your words shall be heard as if a lion has roared
Forgiveness be given and never spoke of again
Your joy will be felt 10 fold more than your pain
So trust in all of what prompts in your heart
That is the journey towards a fresh start
*Note: This was made on July 2nd. I honestly forgot I wrote it. It was mostly written in incoherent scribbles. AND NOW IT'S A MASTERPIECE. Just kidding. It's....uh... a fickle drizzle of thought let's just say. ;)
---------------
Ideas...ideas....
Trying to find a certain balance of genius
Within this tired dollop of foolishness...
Craving excitement....messy...indulgent words...
I never knew the difficulty would rise so substantially under such little pressure
You don't see me, do you..?
I'm not so good at these damn writes, about you...
When I look out of the window of a car,
Sometimes I get lost in myself
I feel so pensive...often, very sad...
Like I'm in a movie, and I am missing someone, or something
Almost as if I am lost in the death of a loved one
But it's not usually someone in particular
Other times it is...
I think about his side of earth...
Yeah, him...
It gets crazy in my head from there..
I guess I harbor bitter toward people that will never feel the same way
Though I harbor bitterness from seemingly nowhere sometimes
My thoughts often go back to the majority of people
And how fickle we are
It's a little bit depressing but,
More annoying I suppose
I am strange...
There could be opportunities that I don't even see
I guess you can call it blindness
I don't know...I guess the first step of getting rid of the blindness
Is acknowledging the fact that you are blind...
Sometimes the darkness of not knowing is rather comforting...
Maybe I'm just writing from my ass, but who cares?
Laughter...I've done a lot of that lately
I guess it's difficult to get back to that groove, at least for me
I'm so emotional, it hurts
I sometimes wish I was more grounded...more realistic
I never ask for normality
Because I don't think that there's anybody who knows exactly what that means
Whatever though; that's not really significant, is it?
What is important though?
I'm not sure anymore
Maybe I do know; I just don't acknowledge it enough
I am better than that, aren't I?
I'm just so lost in myself..
I know I am better than this...
But who cares about me?
Shut up already!
Gain some perspective for once!
The bottom line is, I need to learn to love myself
Otherwise, I'll become the fickle one.
He sits in a wheelchair pushed to the curb. The people around him move aside to assure he is able to see. His shrunken body a shell of what it used to be. His breathing labored, aided by the tube that extends from the oxygen tank attached to his chair. On his head, he sports a blue campaign cap with VFW stitched in gold. He is one of America's finest, come to pay his respects.
Behind him stands a younger woman who has guided him there. A daughter perhaps, fussing over him, adjusting the robe in his lap, assuring his comfort. He shows no resistance to the attention, but simply sits and waits.
In the distance drums are heard, soon to be joined by the sound of horns. A stirring march riffles over the crowd, and an electricity grips their senses. Soon the call of cadence is heard. The measured tramp of boots, perfectly in time with the music. It grows louder until at last, a military formation looms into view. Uniformed soldiers, marching in perfect rows, perfect columns, gleaming boots, ribboned chests, weapons at rest on their shoulders. The crowd stirs. Small flags are waved. Cheers erupt. Pride hangs thick in the air.
The color guard approaches. Banners held high, snapping in the breeze. Some spectators remove their caps while others cover their hearts. Children, hoisted to their fathers shoulders, clap in excitement.
The old man tugs at the woman's sleeve and motions for her to come closer. She leans down and listens as he speaks, then asks "are you sure"?. He nods his head. Walking to the front of the chair, she removes the robe and, grasping his outstretched hands, pulls him slowly to his feet, where he stands with her assistance. Those around him watch as the frail, stooped body, with some difficulty, stands more erect. They see the pain etched on his face, and the tear that escapes his eye as he offers a salute as the flag passes by.
Suddenly, the cadence count stops, and in it's place is heard a command . A command normally reserved for when passing a reviewing stand. "Company, eyes right" the guidon bearer bellows, and with that, he returns the aging veterans salute, a sign of respect for an old soldier. After all, it is his flag. It is his country. He bought them both many years ago.
Bob Quigley
Jan 10, 2012
“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth). Well … today is mine. I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!). Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!). One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!
It is truly amazing: Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”! Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books. But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!) Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.
For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”. That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging. Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured. We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.
There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight. We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.
It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”. If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.
Our remaining decisions will be: Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.