Long Double back Poems
Long Double back Poems. Below are the most popular long Double back by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Double back poems by poem length and keyword.
When on the path of poetry I tread,
I rarely know the scenery I’ll find.
I hear a bird that sings inside my head
and measures steps iambic in my mind.
At times it seems a mountain that I climb.
I work but do not sweat. . . it’s more like play!
And each five steps I take, a word must rhyme
with one that’s ten feet farther on my way.
Although I often plod, I hate to rest;
I follow where sweet bird is wont to go
and often double back while on my quest
to find each turn of phrase most apropos.
But, oh, that words to match her melody
would come as swiftly as her song to me!
for the Which is your favorite poem form? Poetry Contest
Black lips vibrating for the right mix
Black lips kiss with a passion, Black fistfight for our past and future sons
bloodshed lies spilled
Black lips start to peel
slaving for a meal, time standing still, life flying by
black lips begin to cry, no more lies, no more corrupt minds
Cut all ties with evil spines, attempting to take the soul of the Black lips, with a quick fix
gripping tight on the crucifix
hundreds of years running
hundreds of years of being a fugitive, accused of living Black, black Lips Start To fight Back
Activist, these Lips Never Fall back
These Lips were in Defense, and Now It's Time to Attack
never double back to slavery
black lips keep the bravery
Are some going to hell? maybe, you cannot save all beings
it's human nature, even though God Created everything
Going through the struggle
black lips start to sing
I'm blessed in the name of the King, All Through Summer, Winter, Fall, and Spring.
I Will Sing
"I'm Blessed."
She stopped her car and walked a mile
Finding a place familiar but new
Shortest jog through the mist and fog
Reminds her of a younger day when cares of life did not exist, as if they ever had to
Finest items anywhere, selection grand
Some old some new, but all the quality transcending time itself
She gathered a basket of all that spoke of her
By thought alone to carry home
Why return when all of meaning surrounds her?
She was upset to know she could not stay
and carry-on among this place, the cost to remain too high
Around she must return and continue on her way
She bundled as many memories as she could
To double back the mile away, rejoin the forlorn car
and continue on her way again
But since that day the story goes out to all whom she knows
to quickly recount that fateful morn she choose to stop the car
and found the special place one mile way
Each time to touch a memory
renews her hope to travel on
and once again encounter such a lovely place to stay
How do we know when we're too far lost to double-back?
Left with the realization, that we may suddenly lose it all.
We constantly seek perfection, even when perfectly content.
Our interests that devoured hours, abandoned in mere seconds.
Emotions, once life-changing, suddenly and silent, fade away.
The strongest attractions, too waiver, needing to be replaced.
Even the fiery love within our hearts, can suddenly self-extinguish.
Our futures are unknown, regardless of our hopes and dreams.
We plan and schedule, tasks to comfort our feeble minds.
Providing a false security, in the continuation of our existence.
Ignorant, we believe, we possess any control over our life.
Our lives remain forever constant, in a state of unrest.
Only a few humans, will venture down the enlightened path.
Allowing life's unpredictable nature, to set our souls free.
The greatest blessing, simply to awaken each new day.
Demanding the freedom, to live our lives, as we so choose.
The majority remains in denial, unwilling to accept the truth.
They make life's uncertainty, the foundation of their suffering.
Even fearing the consequences, of enjoying their human desires.
Unable to accept reality, they choose the bliss of ignorance.
Submitting their only true freedom, to a puppet master's control.
Their only comfort, knowing where, in society they neatly belong.
They swarm from a hole in the ground
Some running left some right
Some straight ahead others double back
They charge they bustle chaotically frantically
Can this be their last day?
Is there a plan? Maybe it’s just a panic attack
The mayhem continues the bustle unabated
They cover the available land
Is that the plan? I can’t see it
Each having found their spot they settle
They shuffle they shuffle
Side to side moving but the slightest bit
They begin to stir agitated agitated
They surge forward a maddened army
Renting the air with a blood curdling battle cry
Toot Toot
It’s on time today
Off to work now, bye!
July 5 2019
Tri-Con
Emile Pinet
I see all things as a pattern
to be recognized and reckoned with ideas
that are wise all things that can be
seen and unseen
I recognize the units that fit
the things that slide neatly together
the lines that form an intricate
pattern of patterns
of recognition, this has tattoo itself deep
into my soul, my brain recognize these patterns
of patterns that are sold, patterns
I despise, patterns I recognize
They are telegraphs through my mind eye
my judgment is intricate in design they
repeat and reciprocate process and replicate
duplicate and double back
triple, quadruple, and replicate
patterns within patterns plans on the backs
of man patterns from the hands of
mankind or from the hands of the Almighty
I see all there is, is patterns
I recognize the lines, the shapes the colors
for precision, the chaos's designs, desire looping
of thought the pinwheel of patterns within patterns
pattern recognition
splatters, shatter something chatters in fewer planes
decorated with intricate filigree and design stretching
out forever intricate
patterns
intricate designs messy patterns, where nothing
should be or can be considered a pattern
pattern recognition, repeat, replace, replicate, duplicate
recognition
a reprise, pattern recognizes patterns
within patterns or repeating till the end of time,
a pattern recognition, sublime
I see no pattern recognized!
Oh, that's it, Keko. Pass through. Go ahead.
Just walk across my books without a glance,
with all that arrogant insousiance
of yours, encoded in that languid tread.
No, never mind that I've been up all night
engrossed in them. What now? So why the pause?
Ah, now I see. You might retract your claws
in expectation of a fondle-fight.
What must it be, to live a life by whim,
to eat, to sleep, to gambol, amble, bask
as humour takes you, never think to ask
of costs or consequences, to never trim
or balance, need to tack, or double back.
There's no-one holding you to strict account.
You waste your time guilt-free, don't have to mount
defence or mitigation. If you lack
the cares and burdens of my tedious chores,
perhaps there's something else you'll never own
- a subtle thing called purpose, which alone
gives point to my percentages and scores.
Don't look so smug for landing on all fours!
This ledger's done. I know I have to die,
and that's my tragedy. You, pumpkin pie,
don't have a clue what's coming. And that's yours.
Come with us Halloweening.
We’ll frolic in the streets.
We’ll race from house to house to house
Spouting “Trick-or-Treats.”
And eagerly we’ll each collect
Confections in a bag.
Fellow ghouls, we’ll abandon you
If you even start to lag!
No slackers in OUR party
As we dash from door to door.
Unlit locations far removed
Instinctively we ignore.
Our goal: to get all we can hold
This wickedly winsome night,
This “Hallowed Eve” of children’s dreams
For fancy and delight.
A time that kids’ imaginings
Collectively take flight
In form of costumes of all kinds-
Of whimsy and of fright.
For Dale and I, that’s part of the fun,
But even better yet
Is what we’ve counted the days off FOR-
The bounty we’re going to get!
And through the dark we onward dart.
Watch as we trespass
People’s lawns, but yards with dogs
We cleverly bypass.
And when we need to go back home
To get more paper sacks,
We drop off treats we’ve got so far,
Then quickly double back. . .
Until we’ve covered every block
Of every foreknown spot
That we had ever frequented
And some that we had not!
Then good and late we homeward speed
With just a little dread,
For darkened windows greet us
And most folks have gone to bed.
We throw our candies on the floor,
So much there is to eat!
We count each chewy chocolate bar,
Each popcorn ball and sweet.
We toss out raisins, apples,
Tiny suckers, silly fruit,
Or give them to our siblings
Who received too little loot.
Then off to bed, our day complete,
We dream of how we’ll feast
Each day with glee, while savoring
Our treasury of treats.
For the Halloween Night Poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
your face
tells its own story
the heartache, the confusion
you have the rare chance to make
your own decision
without outside influence
you are on the ledge
the choice to leap
or double back and get down
moving backwards
to familiarity
the cocoon that shelters you
that smothers you
all along the ledge
seems the most attractive
thing
you've ever seen -
the monotony will make place
for something new,
for growth
where you will have to
spread your wings
even if they have been
grounded for years
you'll never know your own strength
if you don't jump over the ledge
©080220121320
Blue laugher dancing across her face
saving her from embarrassing grace.
Another night in Jack’s Corner Bar
leaving her torturous thoughts afar.
Dirty dancing a nightly affair
concealing truths in neon glare.
Cheap, gaudy jewels sparkling in glow
disguising secrets no one must know.
Angel caught in inelegant fall
once the virtuous belle of the ball.
A dark heart deceived her naiveté.
She fights to keep the demons at bay.
Another round with a double back
barely takes off the chill of attack.
Blue laughter returns to empty eyes,
cloaking sadness in a veiled disguise.
Loud tunes, cheap liquor, thrills on the floor.
Meaningful conversation a bore.
Her dreams for the future tossed aside.
No husband, children, never a bride.
“Bartender, another. Make it two!”
Easy to forget with mind askew.
Nights full of nothing and nevermore.
Relationships harder than before.
More common these nights she spends alone.
Not the sweet belle as she was once known.
Alone and lonely in her despair.
Options were few when emotions lay bare.
Blue laughter faded and disappeared.
Her heart dead, her reputation smeared.
A future uncertain with lost hope.
She was failure, not ready to cope.
Music thumping through her throbbing head
replaying the hurtful words he’d said.
She deserves better than she will get.
Nothing left in her glass but regret.