Long Disregards Poems
Long Disregards Poems. Below are the most popular long Disregards by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disregards poems by poem length and keyword.
Somewhere the snooty scholars of the world
quietly locked inside their dusty hall
Under the dim light of a candle’s flame
decide which label to put upon us all
I see them now with my book in their hand
yelling to destroy this before it grows
Crying to the world “stop this idiot”
he who disregards every rule of prose
Running around their dusty libraries
Banging their cymbals of fear and alarm
stowing me away on some hidden shelf
before I can do anyone some harm
To all those so-called experts of the world
who will stand upon their soapbox and cry
That I am a con for not following their rules
I tell you that I do apologize
Perhaps it’s true, I am a foolish man
to think this qualifies as poetry
I do not know your rules of form and rhyme
to write the way you tell me it should be
If you’re the kind that cares about such things
you might be right to call this a farce
because I don’t use proper form and rhyme
but to you I say “kiss my ****”
Maybe when it comes time to place this book
back upon those dusty forgotten shelves
Someone who reads these words will find courage
to be the poet that thinks for themselves
Everybody disregards completely
human compassion in these times:
there's no room for kindness;
does anybody forgive twice?
Their feelings aren't rivers
that flow wildly and freely:
they are the thickest ice!
Does anybody forgive twice?
No, nobody forgives twice
and admits that's pride!
Is it once enough to make amends
and still, think we can be friends?
I don't count on your forgiveness,
your look can tell that
you don't have tenderness...
that glow of sweetness!
I can make a better person of you,
it can change your perception of me;
I don't have to prove that I am
a mirror of faithfulness...
your suspicions are false
and keep me from touching you
and calling you, " My Sweetest. "
When I long for comfort
in my dire loneliness,
you'll throw me back into Hell;
starting over is simply childish:
wouldn't it be so foolish?
Does anybody forgive twice?
I am too tired of climbing walls
and falling down;
I can't find words
that rhyme perfectly
and write you a song of redemption:
what's the use of begging
and not being forgiven?
I should listen to my inner voice
and find a better woman and go on!
Does anybody forgive twice?
Isn't there more bitterness
and anger in people's hearts
than the willingness to forgive?
Written December 7, 2024, for contest Sponsored by: Karen Jones
____________________________________
When we lose a lesson, we etch an example on a rock,
Be the alteration you wish to view, all round the clock.
We have a deep link and a prosaic mental stake.
After brittle, we allow what we did not forsake.
We seek worth in this life and deem it divine.
Wind disregards the leaves that fall upon the shrine.
Hearts flutter and linger when you're in sight.
Exuberance refers to its outstanding delight.
The exquisite tapestry radiates light from the inside.
Intertwined strands of the lustrous, silvery guide.
You hope nothing more than my crushed heart.
Would you be willing to bring us back to the start?
Time lends death the echo of silent screams.
Dark whispers back to you ripped from dreams.
I tuck away what I have experienced inside.
When it emerges, we are bound to collide.
Often, I enter a contest
I enter the ones I like best
But one sponsor said
Write stood on your head
I moved on to check out the rest
Another said stand in a bucket
Write Latin, or I’m gonna chuck it
Eight lines by the way
Or get an NA
I thought about that and said f… ..
[They say stick to your chosen form
You should never break with the norm
In two stanza’s time
I’m switching to rhyme
The purist would kick up a storm]
But what really scrambles my brain
Is what comes up time and again
It’s apps for surmounting
The problem of counting
And one’s a particular pain….
*
‘How many syllables’, that’s what gets me
The logic it uses ain’t easy to see
Take for example the simple word ‘Wouldn’t’
They say it’s one syllable…
See it?..
I couldn’t
It misreads quotation marks, single or double
A single’s a syllable….. doubles?…. no trouble
It claims that the open quote counts as a syllable
Yet the ensuing quote counts not at all
Now I’m not unique so I run with the crowd
And I’m sure that no-one reads quote marks aloud
With ‘How Many Syllables’, if demand lingers
I simply ignore it and count on my fingers
But Soup has a resource called ‘Syllable Counter’
Which disregards quote marks that it may encounter.
In ‘shouldn’t’ and ‘wouldn’t’ and ‘mustn’t’ and ‘couldn’t’
The syllables all number two
And all of that makes pretty good sense to me…
So does it make good sense to you?
*
I love writing poetry, dearly
And often I get it right… nearly
So please do feel free
To set rules for me
But ‘How Many Syllables’?…. Really?
Autumn's super moon is dazzlingly bright,
The Earth Princess views the super in a milky light.
Seasonal joy fills the poet's soul and cunning,
Clad in green, the landscape is rather stunning.
God made the moon and the brain the same way,
One side is clever, while the other is a dark display.
As yet, this upbeat side is still in prevailing sight
If one disregards the darkness, he is all right.
By virtue of its best features, the moon, and mind,
Inspire all living creatures on Earth with your kind.
Greens, mammals, flowers, people, and ecology,
We are thrilled by the moon and life's company.
Everyone gains widespread joyful calmness,
Water swells in the arch mimicking politeness.
Incidentally, they view, that the lily comes from the brain,
Fall is marked by joy and pretty blooms and birds again.
Written: July 24, 2022
8th Contest Winner
Joy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
He who disregards truth and justice
Will sooner or later go the whole hog;
His bestial appetites and habits,
His love of cruelty and power eventually will take over
Perhaps without him ever realizing the danger.
He is not only beyond the control of others
But beyond his own control.
He does no good ( like rainless clouds or fruitless trees,
Heaping abuse on anything he doesn't understand;
Spoiling the fellowship meals with his irreverent behavior.
He lives at the mercy of his brutish instincts,
Looking after Himself instead of caring for his brother.
Like storm, he leaves behind him shame and disgrace;
like the dirty foam left along the beach by the wild waves.
He's like stars that have wandered into outer space and give no light,
He grumbles about everything and have a huge chip on his shoulder.
He is one in reign,
A loud-mouthed show-off
Who flatters others for his own advantage
And give free reign to his evil desires.
Where Can They Go?
So axiomatic, they'll be displaced
from forest homes, they harbored many years.
Now, over time, their shelters were replaced;
their land dug up by building engineers.
The deer and fox, wild turkeys, many more
inhabited these backwoods, then pristine,
along the banks of nearby river shore,
enjoying nature's ways, yet hardly seen.
But, now they're roaming in our private yards;
no longer can enjoy their wild enclave.
Their virgin forest bulldozed, ground to shards.
No altruistic thoughts the builders gave.
Rejecting asseveration - no regards,
their mega-mansions built with disregards.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Triple-A Challenge
Sponsor: Robert Haigh
Required Words To Use: axiomatic altruistic asseveration
surprises
delight filled moments
frivolity to confound
a sojourn
from melancholy
prolific,dazzling bliss
a committed devotion
a displayed impulse
voluptuous in energy
encompassing
surrounding illusions of intimacy
instanced,deduced,educed
seduced
an experimental collage
decorative,suddenly fashioned
the fragile outlined
throwaway disregards
irreverent
never solemn
Where have they gone, our poor creatures of the wild?
Their forest lost, because of human cause-
sadly sprang to suburbs- having been exiled.
Invaded, they have fled by wings, hooves, and claws,
when before, in sync with nature, they had sought
only peace- now stolen, backed by new-found laws.
This was their home until wealthy buyers bought-
with no empathy- just standard disregards,
constructing mega-mansions without a thought.
Now- they are roaming into our private yards-
their world ended by construction engineers;
huge virgin forests bulldozed and shred to shards.
From their forest homes, protected many years-
they've been driven to unsafe, urban frontiers.
February 22, 2021
Premiere Contest: Your 2021 N/A Choice
Sponsor: William Kekaula
N/A in Contest: "While Mother Earth Gently Moans"
Judged March 18, 2021
("Corpus Callosum", 2018, original encaustic)
Left Brain Right Brain
The two halves of our brain
exist like opposites in our world
but as wholes within our heads.
Sometimes it seems the left -
the side of words and logic and manageable things -
disregards that there is even an other,
a side that is in fact the master
that all perceptions filter through,
a gate keeper ever watching without judgment,
a side that knows
but doesn’t say
speaking instead in gesture, music and image,
that only hint at the truth,
that takes us down
the rabbit hole
to realms unknown
yet all our own
where sequences build
and break and form
kaleidoscopic worlds are born
where wind can talk
and Sun does sing
and logic becomes a playful thing
that turns to noodles
we sell at roadside stands
eat with chopsticks
that dance to marching bands
and feed to snakes
as they hum the rhyme
of ancient mariners
now lost in time…
(first published in my second book, LITTLE PINE, 2016)