Long Duplex Poems
Long Duplex Poems. Below are the most popular long Duplex by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Duplex poems by poem length and keyword.
Enter, this way,
don't mind the dank shadow-crawling tunnel,
nothing has lived here for years.
Antechamber ahead, no need to crouch now.
In this chill hall you can admire a black moon
pinned to an even darker sky.
So far, you have just been reading my thoughts,
now you may discern my mouth and one bloodshot eye,
fear not, I am just a patchwork poet,
other parts of me are buried here and there.
In the next room you can talk to your own ears.
There is a musical box in the corner
where the sullen arias of snails and puppy dog tails
are endlessly edited.
Enter now this shambling duplex apartment, here
there are two of me, both leading a double life.
All available light can be controlled by a
dimmer switch. You will know where to find it,
it is implanted between ecstasy and loathing.
Relax, I have provided a bed of bones for you.
Unfortunately, moles have ravaged my writing tablet,
I can only scratch poetry on mole hills now,
however, the upturned earth is still rich and loamy,
and the little creatures tirelessly check my spelling,
even though I can hardly see my words anymore.
Please note, that these musings have been sent
by those supersonic bats that translate for us
a whole world of silence.
The stag was astounded by fox’s nerve.
Not realizing this was no ordinary fox.
You are going to the city? Why? Stag asked.
To peer in and peer out, to unify my flocks.
This is when Stag realized why fox was called Cosmos.
He was not thinking like this world, he was an elemental beast.
A shockingly wise reminder of fables, myths, and legends.
Stag asked for permission. Can I stand here and watch at least?
Sure said Cosmos. You can be my sentry, my look out, my friend.
I have become soft in the safety of heaven. So your eyes please lend.
I might need your help down there in that labyrinth of complex.
Stand on the hill and send prayers. I will start at that duplex.
So Stag stood guard on the hill that night, overlooking the city.
The lights of the heathens began to twinkle shut and down.
The atmosphere felt warmer on the hill, a feeling that was pretty.
Fox gave them his dreams and hopes, spread them all around.
How did it go? Stag asked upon Fox’s wily return to the hill.
They are sleeping on my suggestions, Cosmos said, being humble.
Will they sleep for a long time? Stag asked, in awe still.
Not too long, Cosmos said, and some of them may stumble.
But I came to give them the best suggestions, the ones they can use.
I gave them ideas to ponder and swirl around in the dreams.
It is up to them now to utilize what they know, understood by their muse.
Then Cosmos went back into the atmosphere on moonbeams.
At The Ramada Inn
teenage boyfriend sits butt close to brown eyes
waitress with bleeding lips serves a silent sirloin
middle aged mother says the meat is too rare
bespectacled father stares at the impaled thing
says the leaking steak isn’t dead enough to eat
bleeding waitress takes jiggling meat to the flames
teenage boyfriend tells brown eyes he loves her
loves the windsong perfume she keeps in her purse
loves kissing her strawberry lips in the beige impala
teenage boyfriend daydreams now of holy matrimony
of living in a two room duplex with two perfect children
of driving the family into town with scapulars hanging
waitress with bleeding lips serves a screaming sirloin
teenage boyfriend sits butt close to brown eyes
And here
we are
again,
my love,
under
one more
bullock
cart night,
devoid
of care,
ageless
in joy.
Clingy
as sand
are the
actions
of past.
Forgive,
my love,
forget
as well,
devoid
of care,
ageless
in joy.
For long
had I
raged and
hated
the tide
that took
you far
adrift.
But now,
my love,
I know
by heart
it was
leading
you to
me swift.
The man
you called,
“My love,”
my love,
was not
better
a man
than me.
He crushed
your soul
beneath
his thumb,
and noosed
the husk
with glee.
So here
I stand,
a gun
in hand,
tall at
your grave,
my love.
Crows caw
in nest
when owls
destroy,
devoid
of care,
ageless
in joy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 09 / 12 / 2016
Contest: Duplex
Sponsor: Jan Allison
Amid distractions and detours I found you,
In hindsight? It could never be fast enough.
Your raspy whisper was just slow enough,
each phrase uttered I wanted on repeat.
Not a single lyric could I not repeat,
with skin frozen in goosebumps I cringe.
Titillating sweat doesn’t make me cringe,
a short circuiting heart’s sign I can’t ignore.
The mundane is so easy to ignore,
stop blinding me with all that refraction.
Matching a storm lit with refraction,
passion’s impossible to take eyes off of.
With perfect focus and a lack thereof,
amid distractions and detours I found you.
It happened again to Bo Peep.
She'd gone off and lost all her sheep.
Met a woodsman named Ted
They spent time in his shed.
Bo cared not a Peep about sheep!
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Little Bo Peep ignored her flock
She let Ted undo her tight frock
They had passionate sex
In his parent’s duplex
The poor sheep they all ran amock.
BY JAN ALLISON
Exhausted Bo Peep had to lay down her head
But Ted kept one sheep in back of the shed
Since she was unable
He hid under a table
So his sheep was the first to be Ted bred!
BY PAT ADAMS
Now rested, Bo woke in disgust
To find ewe and Ted in mid-thrust
So she took some pink pills
Then she ran for the hills
Looking for one she could trust!
BY DEAN WOOD
This poem was too long to submit without premium membership, so I have submitted it in two parts, but it is meant to be read together.
Part one....
They say he is clearly psychotic, if knowing that was even a possibility.
The visible signs are all present, his behavior is a dead give away.
"Normal" people don't act this way, they act like everybody else.
When did being different, become the diagnosis of being clinically insane?
Their image of "normal" is repeatedly drilled into our heads.
Through the direction of our leaders, our education, multi-media.
The television and cinema screen their greatest tools for propaganda.
A man and his lovely wife, with their two point five children,
A duplex in the suburbs, undistinguished from any of the others.
a neatly trimmed lawn, a few hedges, a two car garage for their one vehicle.
A couple truly in love, rarely do they argue, with great sexual chemistry.
Working constantly through the better part of their lifetimes
making enough money to pay their bills, and splurge once a week.
their companies CEO, the bill collectors, and the government's tax brackets,
all work together in unison, to ensure that they are never more than comfortable.
At the age of sixty-five, they have a small nest egg saved up together.
Only now, well into their "golden years," are they allowed to live as they choose.
Their biggest motivation and desire, is simply to survive for another year.
When they die, their children discover they have no money in their accounts.
It always is a shock, revealing your parents have died completely broke.
Ideal examples of the perfect "American Marriage," left penniless in their grave.
Luckily for the children, they had purchased a small life insurance policy.
The payout almost exactly enough to cover the burial costs and funeral.
Even experiencing this unsettling revelation at their parents expense,
These same children are pre-destined, doomed, to follow suit.
Brain washed into believing that their outcome will somehow be better.
They spent less, saved up more, purchased a better insurance policy.
Unaware their parents shared these exact thoughts, forty years prior.
Bitter Sweet Revenge
Your love
hurts me
I think
about
hurting
you bad
Why did
you change
into
a beast?
I want
you to
know pain
deeply
Why Punch
me So?
What have
I done?
Hired a
known thug
to scare
you straight
I called
it off
good bye
12-6-16
Contest: Duplex
Sponsor: Jan Allison
Using duplex form
(2-syllables each line
to line A story)
HIDDEN DISTRESS
The lab
results
were out
CANCER
A dark
shadow
covered
her heart.
Every
step was
painful.
Tears filled
her eyes
that day,
but she
would not
let them
fall down.
She would
never
let the
world see
her cry.
She was
a strong
woman.
She had
to be.
For the
sake of
her dear
husband
and her
cute li'l
children.
None knew
her pain.
She was
cheerful
even
through her
hidden
distress.
The joy
of the
Lord was
her strength,
till her
very
last breath.
-------------------------
08.12.16
My first test in what we shared
too easy and too perfectly paired.
The part of us that is immortal
ran holding hands through a portal,
quick to stumble and trespass upon
a duplex that kept the blinds drawn.
Your covenant before my time,
had me pray for that exception of mine,
but my ladder to Heaven with rungs of hope
couldn’t bear the weight of sin—no matter the slope.
So no from scripture to your mother,
from every hand we were to suffer,
fools bound in a tortured trust,
nothing was going to change the unjust.
Given the faith and a mind to discern,
but my wicked heart still welcomes your memory's return.
Its pulse echoes a buried refrain,
the hook on the end of a chain
will dangle this dream forever,
a rearview horizon’s tether
from our last day—these thirty years,
ghosts recite testaments of tears,
for it was only I or they, that cared.
I never found again, that shared.