Long Distributed Poems
Long Distributed Poems. Below are the most popular long Distributed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distributed poems by poem length and keyword.
Brilliant, grandiloquent, magnificent, trenchant...
Writing prompts burst asunder
deafening soundcloud roared
with apocalyptic thunder
'course only audible to yours truly,
I did dumbfoundedly wonder...
At o'clock tick tocking wee hours brisk
December seventeenth
two thousand nineteen
simultaneous blinding fiery kindling
quickening xing risk
within winkin blinkin and nod,
I feared full light of day brainstorm
snatched away courtesy invisible whisk
broom all those potential
ideas sprung while
Messiah by George Frideric
Handel's never out of style
within cerebral nooks and
crannies (think Ohiopyle),
whereby Youghiogheny River
bubbles, gurgles, fuels river mile
after mile harnesses and doth generate
approximately twelve Megawatts
of electricity per hour, to alleviate
domestic counting eight
thousand homes necessitate
distributed across western
and central Pennsylvania.
Analogous catching
courtesy goo goo dolls barenaked
ladies hands spawning
salmon slippery as an eel
(if curious don't take my word,
which might not appeal)
though yours truly
offers no guarantee,
you could easily fall
overboard as ye kneel,
which subsequently offers
live human meal
to hungry sharks, impossible mission
to escape no matter
how loud you squeal,
bouquets delphiniums and daisies
designate watery grave site
dissolving blood amidst the color teal.
Aforementioned depiction, whereby current
commander in chief
admittedly no gent
till man nor scholar, and
he cavalierly lent
and nearly fin hushed nearly
(possibly already) rent
asunder high crimes and
misdemeanors, he casually spent
constitutional principles of democracy,
whereby I experience torment
precipitating quasi riptides undercurrent
bigotry, demagoguery, "fakery,"...
misogyny, vanity vetted vice
whereby woebegone grievances
Pandora's box loosed
helter skelter they went.
Anyway... synonymous maintaining
readership attention blinker
necessary to apply unsuspecting
hook, line and sinker
without rousing ire principal
(at Henry Kline elementary
my dear watson Mister Rinker)
long since retired,
he possibly maybe grandfather
of one or more freethinker.
Supple intake transforms standard to salient
Triumph thanks tantalised talent
Trials confronted conduct products ultimate
Survival sullied for an alternate
Symphony bellows true blood tempo rhythm
Value balloons with enthusiasm
Transmits fail-safe faith in methods titanium
Sophisticates yesterday's system
Theories distributed to avid students taught
Voluminous sage bolsters scholars
Series of gradual upgrades steadily sought
Take bulging pulses, pump dollars
8th November
Innovation
Green, spruce tree with ornaments to spare
Turquoise lights gleam and brightly flare
Crimson stockings are bulging with a sweeter fare
Purple, velvet bows spliced on presents with care
Blue garlands hung de rigueure
Bronze crèche our faith to bare
Chartreuse curtains with glittering trim rim our festive lair
White, twinkling lights border each burgundy stair
Safron, satin pillows delicately line each sofa and chair
Black, porcelain lacquerware liberally distributed, pomp and circumstance to declare
Oranges and apples with waxy glint in gilded fruit bowl adds flair
Golden calabria accentuates the tableware
Silver platters glisten and glare
Platinum cutlery paired for the hallowed affair
Yellow, spicy nog with all our guests we'll share
I love the words you speak
For they reinforce the ideal in which hands speak.
A warmth that can't be heard, only felt.
A bonfire released in a cylinder.
The crackling of dopamine like wood.
Branches that provide warmth in times you aren't around.
The times dawn can be found in the palm of our hands.
The waking of primal urge where words do no justice.
It is there I find you.
Each crackle, every ash of residue where we've rested.
For you are the fire lit in body.
The cylinder that keeps me warm.
No matter how far away you are I melt in thought.
Urging to move closer.
Alas you welcome it.
Open flames that lash out without regard where it touches.
Our love is one of eternal scaring.
The wind lifting each flame higher.
The preference of action over word.
The concrete stained, scared.
Our warmth attracts the attention of the sky.
In brief hesitation we overheat.
Knowing only to collapse.
This is what it feels to kiss every word that slips through your lips.
In eternal heat.
A ring that burns in depth.
A sign that we were forever here.
I am drained.
The sap and moisture comes to a boil.
I am forever spoiled.
Forever yours.
Alas I welcome it.
The residue of what we've become.
A bridge of me, given to you.
Stacked and piled high.
A match thrown in need.
Without fear we provide each other in eternal warmth.
The sky borrows our heat.
This cylinder that can no longer contain this fire.
Distributed as red orange.
The look exchanged eye to eye.
The beginning and end of all we'd ever know.
The smoke covers as clouds.
I am reminded every time I look up
In our Asian-cum-Eastern land
No one prefers or admires
the dark-skinned or tanned
Gosh, as if the fair-skinned alone
belonged to the so-called fairer sex
And here, 'black is beauty' a phrase unheard
All falling for the light skinned almost in reflex!
Bachelors on the hunt for a non-fictional Asian 'Snow-white'
Even an ugly heart will do if the skin is white, pale and light
For them lighter skin tis brighter and better at beauty
even if superficial and skin-deep
The dark-skinned maidens thereby left single to weep
But while the ebony dark- pigmented
go on applying whitening and lightening creams
The white Westerners frequented
the sunlit beaches for dark tans from sun beams!
So in westerners females wish to look browned and tanned
Thus the opposite is preferred
so to that end they may sun bathe for hours on beach sand
Ah and though from the point of view of my motherland
I am luckier that God chose
to model me from a peachy whiter lighter clay,
I still feel this tug-of-war between complexions
needn't really join the fray.
For when you and I glance at Naomi Campbell
we know beauty can be white, brown and black as well
Like love, beauty knows no colour, creed or race
As proved by this gorgeous black supermodel.
Besides, we all have come across
both dark-skinned angelic saints
and fair-skinned folks with sinner's taints
Ah, Black Beauty, or Fair and lovely
Beauty has never known any bounds
For God He distributed beauty rather equally
No argument can last on these grounds
Oh, a soulmate's inner beauty ought to be earnestly sought
Too bad lustful passions fall for those merely outwardly hot!
God isn't neat
He hasn't got it all sewn up
Tidy
Complete
He doesn't have a perfect plan
Preprepared
A place for everything
Colour coordinated
Sussed out, exclusively available
To the spiritual elite.
He doesn't have a bag of surprises
Distributed on a whim
Leukaemia for you
Long life for her
Alzheimer's or dementia or a road traffic accident for him.
He doesn't mete out chance events
Based on our choices
The sound of our voices
The town of our birth
Our place on the earth
The state of our hearts
Our love of the Arts
Our reliance on science
Our sin.
He never has promised that life will be fair
Or tragedies rare
Simply he tells us
Because of his son
All that he is
All he has done
In the light and the dark
In joy and in pain
Perceived or
Ignored
Trusted or
Doubted
He will be there
a Crown Oddquain poem
Strange
wind blowing,
a cold harbinger
of darker things to follow
soon.
Much
closer now
than the day before,
much closer now than sages
know..
Yes,
bad fortune
is nigh upon us,
and yet we will not listen
still.
Do
we forget
every past lesson,
all those we lost in senseless
war?
Blast
us into
mass oblivion,
let nature grow the garden
new.
Oddquain is a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of seventeen syllables distributed 1, 3, 5, 7, 1 in five lines, developed by Glenda L. Hand.
Crown oddquain-a five stanza oddquain sequence
Shadow Poetry - Poetry Types - Oddquain
A small bank
When I visit my bank, which is a small rural one
the bank lady who warns me not to overspend
and my wife meets I go for a coffee across
the road, they are both from Congo and have
a lot to talk about
The business in the bank is done, forenoon
the prize of pig feed and grain harvest, and so on
When I am alone, I like to come early
and enjoy the concerned people with no dramatic political
meaning other than survival
the real people's experience that contextualized
not democratic that those who invest in
the future, should it arrive, be the beneficiary
that income should be distributed according to
input, it is not about equity
At the same time, my fellow investors do send
money to help Gaza because they read
the local newspaper that is biased toward Israel
My mother thought a Jew was someone in a fur hat
selling stuff from his cart.
The truth has turned to fiction
Lies are stated as if they’re fact
While overzealous politicians
Stab one another in the back
Right and left are being polarized
There seems to be no middle ground
In a world becoming globalized
No unification can be found
Vigilantes patrol neighborhoods
Killing young men fitting profiles
Thoreau is lost in Walden’s woods
Lady Liberty no longer smiles
We’ve become a litigious society
People wanting hand outs from the court
Religions have lost their piety
If this were a mission we would abort
Silent remains the majority
Wealth is distributed to but a few
We need a healthy dose of some purity
To grab a hold and pull us through
In the end it is up to all of us
To find the humanity within our soul
And in each other put our trust
So we can all reach a common goal
Pie in the Sky
If the pie grew in proportion to the number waiting for a piece could there ever be enough?
If everyone who got a piece of the pie shared it would either be satisfied?
If the pie were distributed on the basis of need how many would still want it?
If a committee were formed to address the issue of the pie what would happen?
Would the committee arrange for a bigger pie?
Would the committee mandate a larger pie?
Would the committee institute an investigation into the quality of the pie and its inability to be sliced into sufficient pieces to satisfy all?
Would an independent “special” prosecutor be assigned to look into the origins of the pie’s insufficiencies?
If the committee did its job correctly the pie would be forgotten. The independent “special” prosecutor honored, and the committee praised for their diligence in managing the situation.
The unused ingredients (money, power and prestige) of the preceding problem (the pie) would be blended into (swallowed up by) a new recipe (new legislation) regarding the size, shape, production and distribution of any new pies.
A COMMITTEE will be appointed to oversee the process.
John G. Lawless
6/22/2021