Long Durable Poems
Long Durable Poems. Below are the most popular long Durable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Durable poems by poem length and keyword.
We thought it novel
And somewhat appreciate
We filled number ten cans
With motar like bricks
To be walls in our off-grid
Septic tank.
We put in a slab
Then stacked the # tens
With mortar and rebar
Layer by layer until they
We're above ground level
And than we made
Ah frame and used a canvas and rebar
To make the durable top
This was our solution to
The pricey alternative
Using a laser to ensure
Accuracy we stacked til
The job was done
I wore my tight fittin booty
Shorts and a thong
To attract enough men
To be attracted to the chore
I served bbq and drinks
to tease them enough
We finished in two days
After the tasks and laboring
I let my husband make me pregnant
To illustrate the job was done
Ya'll come back for the fall party
It's sure to be ah swangers treat
Thanks all
Sincerely
Mrs. Gotta Hard
Down Strawberry Lane
"Whink and Ah Smile"
Flames
Love is full of moments,
that are truly intense.
They have passion,
and fervor
to be kept,
for later...
when the fires dim,
or even go out.
They can be rekindled.
All that is ever needed,
is the smallest spark.
Love is also
water and rain.
it is cold and wet,
and insane.
It runs a fever,
and takes you to dangerous
places, with crazy ideas...
in your head.
Why not sing,
and dance...
at every chance?
Be more than you can be.
Be more than the world
considers you are,
because you are a star.
God makes only the best,
he even puts them to the test...
to make sure,
they are resilient,
hardwearing and durable,
in the storms,
as in the calm ponds
between the flowing
of flash floods,
that overcome some
completely,
and leave only
the survivors
still forever...
full of faith.
The magazine cover page had a picture
Strange,
Out of the norm.
All those expositions of creative writing
are not pure and divine, nor sober as well.
A hypothetical extravaganza of law-breaker laws.
There is no validity of empty or full glass
No chance of any logical input , there.
Breaking that glass introduces the possibility
Ultimate materialization of the ulterior climax
Little to do with a softer pencil mark
No way to erase that either.
Permanent stains, long-lasting, durable.
Sophist hallucination of a strange life
One cannot deny anything through escapism
Thinking aloud, Thinking a lot.
But then, why me?
I am just nobody
With a sky darkened with ages of improbable fall out.
Perhaps, there is not much left
But to be red through emotions,
red like blood. Red, a hot-headed color.
My meager plate gets lost with
innumerable calculations of priorities...
and the room floor with hypothetical extenuations
everything, everywhere.
A series of happenings of world with no far-reaching continuity
A groaning pain of a hopeless night, and a day too.
Thinking aloud, thinking a lot.
You are my Granite Soul
Elizabeth!
You are the queen
of my golden age
you were younger
than me, my now 39,
before you gave up
on womanhood ,
children,
and romantic love
long hair is only
long for long
and entertainment,
plays, comedy
and music
can only start
and end
( requiem means
“mass for the repose
of the dead,”
after all)
I never was
at my sister’s funeral
nor part of her
requiem
or celebration.
She still laughs
with me
at bad jokes
(in my mind)
and her laugh
was groundbreaking
and life-affirming!
I remember
the quills,
the copycats,
the dirty streets,
the tangibility
of too many mistakes
of white-lead beauty
and trying humor
of timeless history
and strong women
with or without
curtains of fabric
and heavy,
corseted fashion
and those looser
and tight-bound
socialites
who had more or less
fun, unstrung
your ladies in waiting
may cry, but you
will not
My hair is oily
after three days
of teaching and
no shower,
and I don’t like
mirrors
on Mondays
when I am not
made of hard stuff,
stone, or granite
“wearing the face
that she keeps
in the jar
by the door”
I am not
Elenor Rigby
To be married,
unflinchingly,
to England
outlives emotion
like the granite
of Mount Rushmore
(the requiem
cries your name,
as would Mozart,
a less durable artist
whom it hurts to
hear, sometimes)
whose work
poured out
faster than blood,
and it killed him.
“I have become
a virgin” Cate
Blanchett
confesses after
shearing her head
of hair.
The puritans were shorn
unwillingly and blood
stained the blood
rinsed in water.
They went
from water
to coughing fire
to be worshipped
as the Virgin Mary was
one must become
more than woman,
more than man,
immovably
inhuman
Elizabeth,
let lesser
women
respond as men
think women do.
You are
my granite soul.
My memory carves an image indelible,
time could not take it away in the flight.
On the shore of shimmering sea
I weaved my love for you,
with romantic spectrum of the sunburst silk sky,
painted the profile of future landscape.
Our hearts beating in harmony took entwined shape,
as the sun sank to set, passing us by,
I couldn't release your hands I knew.
I felt the joy, so free
could flash on your face like the luster of twilight.
I was flushed with longing incredible.
Your yearning touch I still feel for it’s durable
like the glow of pole star I saw that night,
but you went where you wished to be,
far away from my view.
I can’t forget that night howsoever I try,
with moondust lattice your shadow I drape.
January 6, 2021
Contest : A Little Memory-My Invented Form
Sponsor : Constance La France
Hurry, hurry we are burning daylight,
The flowers are wilting;
Mother was planting a cottage garden,
And we needed the right perennials;
Flowers durable, enduring, perpetual,
Oh sweet dreams of flowers;
This was a journey I shared with mother,
Daylight pours into this memory;
That I recall vividly.
Fragrant burning daylight day lilies,
Flowing emerald leaves;
Intense beautiful orange-yellow colors,
Trumpet shaped delicate soft blooms;
We set them in a sheltered location,
So attractive in the shade;
They also thrive in fields growing wild,
After mother died I took some;
Placing them at her tomb.
Darkness turns to daylight as I recall,
Mother's cottage garden;
Some tell me that I must let it go,
That all the time I spend grieving;
The less time I spend living my life,
But how dear to me the memory;
Of me and mother in her garden,
Planting burning daylight day lilies;
With petals that sleep.
_____________________
April 14, 2015
Poetry/Verse/Burning Daylight Day Lily
Copyright Protected, ID 04-666-612-14
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
For the contest, Burning Daylight,
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 2015
Second Place
July 24 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Ecclesiastes 5-8
Key Verse – Ecclesiastes 5:20 …God answereth him in the joy of his heart.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ANSWERING US
IN THE JOY OF HIS HEART
Praise be to God for answering us
in the joy of His heart with His:
Presence for our rejoicing
Promises along our restoration
Providence over our redemption
Protection around our regeneration
Preservation toward our ready revival
Ecclesiastes 6:2 Praise be to the Lord for
granting us power to:
Eat delicious food
Esteem durable faith
Enjoy delightful feasts
Extend directed freedom
Earn desirable fruitfulness
Enrich in dutiful faithfulness
Experience distinct fulfillment
Ecclesiastes 7:13 Praise be to the Saviour for
letting us consider His works so:
Wonderful according to His Word
Welfare-wrought by His wisdom
Weighty along His wealthiness
Winsome in our weakness
Worthy with His ways
Ecclesiastes 8:2 Praise be to the Almighty for
counselling us:
Calling us to trust Him completely
Charging us to cling to Him ceaselessly
Cleansing us for our consecration continually
Challenging us to choose His compassion consistently
Changing our character toward Christlikeness continually. Amen!
July 24, 2024
Steven Rogers was born in New York in nineteen twenty, a sweet boy.
A comic book artist, born to poor Irish immigrants, their pride and joy.
Wanted to join the military and fight Nazis when he was twenty-one.
He was little, too scrawny, he lacked muscles. “Just hand me a gun!”
Comic book writers Jack Kirby and Joe Simon pondered what to do.
They wanted to make him a superhero, and they worked on it too.
They arranged for Army general Chester Phillips to make his day.
He enlisted Steven in the super soldier project, right away.
As Captain America, Steven would have super human strength too.
Terrific at martial arts and hand to hand combat, a durable guru.
He would have outstanding stamina, durability, intelligence and speed.
Kirby and Simon ran with their idea, creating a fine comic indeed.
Captain America faced enemies in Japan and Nazi Germany.
His sidekick Bucky was as proud of him as he could ever be.
The first Captain America comic came out in March of 1941.
Captain America punching Adolf Hitler sold a million copies, fun!
Written 5-19-2022
Contest: Captain America
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Why me father/daughter relationship
important to this papa
Fourteen and a half years
since death of mother (mine),
nary one iota of communication
in general and compassion
in particular while
she lived, now wears
heavy and yokes
mantle fostering tears
indirectly sabotaging rapport
with eldest daughter
futility doth arise uttering
feeble secular prayers,
cuz interaction with mother,
whose vehemence more
deafening than banshee killdeers
exceeding threshold of
decibels tolerable these ears.
Now comeuppance came
full family circle, yes
that's her within picture frame,
when young, innocent, and beautiful,
decades before terminal
illness rendered her
incapacitated and lame.
Her second of
three born offspring,
and yours truly
that singular boy
figuratively tethered himself
to her apron strings,
which near omnipotent
biochemical bond her
rancor would destroy,
when lonesome son
failed to employ
purported adult responsibilities
solitary without any
even one homeboy
never knowing how
to maximize potential
rather totally tubular at loss
advantageously to deploy
supposed ducks in a row
always imp pond
durable feeling cast ahoy
shore lee within alien nation,
whereby village people
observe an exceptionally
unresponsive immovable
lad - qua zee decoy
analogous to stonewall,
albeit socially withdrawn
emotionally, physically,
and socially retracting
exhibiting no joy,
nor any audible,
tactile or visible life
stockstill like an
abandoned broken toy.
Silence spoke volumes mainly
I don't wanna be alive
antithetical to that basic
instinct to survive
protestations arose deliberately
minus figurative parachute,
I took kamikaze nosedive
a couple years after two times five
orbitz astride planet Earth
ne'er did amity, comity,
fraternity ever jive,
nope not even pleasant hello
would fake deaf/mute contrive
interaction between kith and kin
affection toward parents
and siblings (two sisters,
not twisted) I did deprive,
whence fast forward decades later,
a metaphorical wedge would drive
roughshod o'er kinship,
when fatherhood did arrive
though "star student" did connive
him (me) to test discomfort zones,
yet more often than not inclusive
integration abandoned among
linkedin with kindling explosive
smoldering volcano found
wicked volatility expressive.
We have a primal urge to survive,
That now goes well beyond this day.
As our resources fail to keep up with,
Our lasting, gluttonous display.
Have we taken to histories lessons,
Where we consume and avoid to sustain?
Or have we seen the wisdom to replenish,
Even the simplest of materials, and maintain?
Each and every one of us share in common,
The air and water that surrounds us all.
As the supportive, complex matrix built
Upon, the energetic life, from small and tall.
Our science has uncovered the blueprint,
Highlighting remedies needed to pursue.
Yet can our wisdom rely on this reality,
Where we conserve and seek to undo?
If humanity truly seeks a lengthy tomorrow,
It must be durable in its action and plan.
While we look past the pleasures of the moment,
To a distant future, for the family of man.