Long Effectively Poems

Long Effectively Poems. Below are the most popular long Effectively by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Effectively poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Password Smashword

I look at my clue for my password 
your favorite place I have written. 
I type in eleven places I like. 
warning signs come up
one more chance, then I am locked out forever. 
there is no way to do this effectively, and I know it. 

I wonder what year I developed this password
would that help me narrow it down?
Doubtful
I reinvent myself daily
My favorite this that and the other of last week
Are easily forgotten by the following Tuesday

I am a Gemini 
A mercurial chameleon
I change my blouse six times before I leave the house. 
Writing down passwords does not help me either
I often forget to do it, not truly buying into this password game
It is not my way. I call Tiger Direct and order another new computer.


Premium Member As We Speak

When wandering through a clinical studies program,
I began a practice of writing verbatims,
capturing the essence of conversations
messages
for their therapeutic integrity.

In this frame of mind and heart,
several years ago
I wrote this verbatim
on behalf of my daughter
with oppositional defiant disorder
and cerebral palsy.

Rereading it just now,
I wonder how different
really
are her imagined thoughts from mine
and yours?

in diverse political and economic senses
speaking and listening with each other
across our less than confluent 
health enlightened 
and wealth care 
empowering/disempowering 
polarized unholistic divides:

You asked me to ask when I need help,
and to add a please and thank you,
if at all possible.

I have done that often.

You ask me to ask to hold your hand
when you can't otherwise hear me ask for help.

I am doing that right now.

I am not like you.
I wish I could be,
but I cannot.

I need you to appreciate me for who I am
more than attack me for who I am not,
and probably will never become.

My mind and body work similarly to yours,
but do not produce feelings and faith,
health and happiness,
language and love
as effectively as does your 
LeftBrain verbally privileged
systemically light white trauma
capitalized wellness incorporation.

I worry.
You and yours often make me anxious,
stressed,
confronted by possibilities that I am not fully human
in your indignant eyes 
and monetized mind,
perceived as not only differently abled 
but inferiorly disabled.

I tend to panic.
Frequently your harsh spoken world overwhelms me.
I lose self-control when bombarded 
by too much inside stimulation
from outside competition.

I want time and Earth and life and you and us
to slow peacefully down.

In these anxious situations,
if you want to help me,
then please stop,
slow down with me,
look at me,
wait until I am ready to look back.

Just give me a moment
or two
or three
or a lifetime
to catch up.

If I can trust you to do this,
I and we will be OK.

I will learn to trust that I could be OK,
and I will feel grateful,
occasionally 
to live with you,
to share my life with you
as you share yours with me
and what is mine.

So not yours
to keep away from me.

So give it back
please and thank you.

Premium Member Martian-Ess

I’m so much in love with a lass from above
It leaves such a knot in my gut
For it’s hard to kiss one’s favourite miss
When her tongue dangles out of her butt

Her eyes grow on stalks, which sway when she walks
And I really like licking her skin
I get naughty thoughts when I’m sucking her warts
For her sweat is effectively gin

Her big bulbous nose and her seventeen toes
All sprout from her one massive foot
And her head is quite bare save for one curly hair
While her teeth are the colour of soot

I know that her face is all over the place
With a most private place for an ear
But I can’t resist those moments of bliss
When she whispers my name from her rear

It might seem absurd but haven’t you heard
That there are no men up on Mars
So they come to Earth when they want to give birth
And chat up the men in our bars

But she can’t conceive with our human creed
So Martian girls self propagate 
They just use us lot to get themselves hot
For there is no compatible mate

But now I’ve been shown her erogenous zone
You won’t find me getting all glum
There’s one naughty place on the side of her face
You should see what she has for a thumb.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Brume of Fear

Brume of Fear
                by Odin Roark

So many walk their walk
Amidst the fog of their making,
Seeing not their created mist
Is but the haze of fear
Clouding courage not yet realized.

To pause on one’s journey
Need not be obscured by guilt,
For who among us can effectively succeed,
Without taking an extra breath of awareness,
Discovery demanding what it does.

Yet, why this hesitance in mounting the Pegasus of confidence,
Allow built-up heat from hunger’s unsatiated longings
To carry aspirations above blurred vision,
Beyond evaporative caldrons of doubt,
Converting steaming potions made cowardice
Into weightless heights of fulfillment?

Some will say this desired euphoria
Is achieved but by a few,
Knowing so many of us
Might rise above the fog
Only to create a tempest.

Such is the furtive seduction
The brume of fear has perfected.
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

The Empty Filled Cup

THE EMPTY FILLED CUP

Ever felt a vacuum despite the fact you fill-up others?
But how can you fill up other "cups" if your cup is empty?
Can an empty cup fill-up another cup?
But if you're actually filling other cups, 
Is it possible to say you feel empty?
Self-sufficiency, the coin you search for in the bag of grain.
Can you "find" another whereas you're in oblivion yourself?
Overflow before filling others, find yourself to find others
Else, life is overwhelming and efforts underwhelming.
When things don't add up, it's time to subtract.
Subtract toxicity and laxity, keeping positive vicinity.
Past is haunted & painfully blooted still, face life undaunted.
Fill your own cup first with joy, peace and Love.
Then, you're able to overflow effectively into other cups.

VickManuelPoetry {VMP}.
Copyright©2022
Form: Sonnet


Bloody Oriskany, Part I

In seventeen seventy-seven,
amidst the deep summer’s August heat,
Barry St. Leger, loyalist milita,
and the Iroquois walked on sore feet.

Their mission was clear: move down the Mohawk,
meet Burgoyne and split the rebel states,
except the Americans in Fort Stanwix
were effectively blocking their way.

To advance the fort had to be reduced,
but St. Leger’s force had few big guns,
so he settled into a siege of the fort,
with a mind to hold strong 'til he’d won.

But the patriots knew of the British plans,
and were not content to just sit and wait,
Tyrion County called up its militia
to save Stanwix from a bloody fate.

Eight hundred of them marched for the fort,
under the command of Nick Herkimer,
a palatine German of the Mohawk vale,
an able and determined fighter.

They stopped to camp not far from Stanwix,
and Herkimer counseled that they should hold,
to await a signal from inside the fort
and launch a two-front attack bold.

But the militia saw this as cowardice,
and said,”What else could we expect?
His own brother fights with St. Leger,
we can’t expect him to take the next step.”

Herkimer darkened at his men’s words,
and would not idly receive their scorn,
he ordered the men to be on the ready,
they would advance the following morn.

But the British knew of their approach,
and prepared to put them to the test,
near five hundred set out to intercept,
mostly Iroquois with some Loyalists.

The next day the Americans, on the move,
found themselves passing through a ravine,
unaware that eyes stared upon them
as they drank from a cool, tiny stream.

The British had planned to wait until
the patriots were all stretched out,
but some Indians opened fire too early,
a roar of muskets and loud piercing shouts.

The first volleys hit hard, stunned the militia,
a good many brave soldiers went down,
Herkimer took a ball in the leg,
and from a dying horse pitched to the ground.

So fierce was that first surprise attack,
so many patriotic souls shot dead,
that all sides involved said the tiny stream
was stained by the blood until red.

Some tried to move wounded Herkimer,
but he was still in no mood for retreat,
he took out a pipe, leaned on a tree trunk,
and said,”I will meet the enemy...”

CONCLUDES IN PART II
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Magic Eyes and Hands

You pan the skies you have magic eyes
The power to apparently influence the course of what you spy
Enchantment, makutu,
Incantation makutu
You spy the skies with golden brown eyes
The power to apparently influence the course of what you spy
Sigh

The universe  so seem vast can't be dreamed
Visit visions vast spewed
Happy hues, heavenly views
Passionate skies- Magic Eyes

You hold those many things God has made
You touch with the end part of your arm 
Beyond the wrist the palm the fingers the thumb
Fingered appendage
Touching even nature's breath
The power to effectively influence the course of what you felt
Such a rush, forth with touch

Host holds in his spans
Vision embraced and held
Colors bled. So bleeds leaves such a rush
Embracing all we span
Touching all we can
Such we span-Magic Hands


5/16/21
Form: Rhyme

Why Kill Lady Macduff

Bard, you made my blood boil today
As I clenched my fists at your fourth act 
My eyes were furious
Inquietude stole over me 
I've been in this room before, but this time I experienced the brunt
My heart turned as cold as a stone
Listening to the lovely woman jousting playfully
With her beautiful boy 
I could see her eyes welling with tears, uncertain but adoring 
Stoic mother bird- for her children
Just as the last bits of sand fell like drops of blood
The hourglass is done and the lady is plunged into night
This blameless, innocent creature and her babes
Where will you go, if even your home is not safe?
I fell in love with you, with your family, just as he wanted
And was effectively heartwrenched when he took you away 
His glimmering blade, poised like a viper at your throats 

These sweet little things, a love that cannot be 
Screaming at the the pages, the play is played 
Why? Please tell me why? 
Why does there always have to be a sacrifice?

Premium Member Prayer, a Christian Perspective

Oratio, precaria, prayer
is how we, our petitions share,
with the God, we adore and love,
who sent us His Son from above.

Prayer is not a way to get
the things o'er which we fret and sweat.
God is not a vending machine
dispensing what we wish to glean.

Prayer involves a connection
with God, that’s not very hi-tech.
Without this close relationship,
one cannot effectively pray.

When we know God, as a true friend,
His will and our desires blend.
As our prayers to Him ascend,
His answers as blessings descend.

God’s promises lift our prayers,
like wings they, our petitions bear.
Then our benevolent Father
unto us His good gifts proffer. 

Prayer is like breath to the soul.
it sustains, revives, and makes us whole. 
The Christian who neglects to pray
will lose their way and from God stray.

Prayer the mouths of lions shut,
from heaven’s book sin's records blot.
It causes crop yields to increase,
and showers of blessings to cease.

Prayer can cause the dead to walk,
unloose tied tongues and make them talk.
Prayer can cause the blind to see,
heal begging man with crippled knee.

Prayer can bind a broken heart
and cause a raging sea to part.
It takes us through tough trials sore
heartaches, great grief, and so much more. 

Take time each day to pause and pray,
God’s promises to him replay.
Whatever else you do or say,
be sure to thank God for today.
Form: Rhyme

Circa 1886 Wealth and Influence

    the High Honor 
 "boulé de tout fort"
         or
"le coq d'une fort"                                                 
Early chemists hoped to turn abundant lead into precious gold. But differences in proton number between the elements (82 for lead and 79 for gold) made that impossible by chemical means.Leocadio Isidro Fidencio Eulalio.(Capsicum chinense) and milk goes hand in hand.(Solanaceae), a seriously heated  discussion: she compared the heat of smelting to the heat of the peppers.
Only minuscule amounts of gold: the processes are expensive! Maybe there’d be a ghost sighting. Doubtful one spoke. They hide gold here in the 1800's. People dressed up like ghost to scare people away. Even the Native's and Spanish settlers used these practices to keep people away while they were looking for the lost gold treasures. They tried to get me to think this long name was one person but I believe this is four people. Four Knumbskulls out in my garden taking my peppers and messing around with my uninspiring wife. This or should I say these jerks were talking about turning lead into gold.why did they include the peppers? We don't know. Atom Smashing at light speed. These were discussed using words to inspire. They lacked understanding to many listening.Methods of subterfuge. They used movie tactics with special effects to create a real life like erriness.
 Specters meant to frighten the locals from venturing out at night. I called for pizza and they said we don't deliver there anymore. Two weeks later were that pizza man: they changed the story or they tryna fool me! I heard they tried to fool the locals by wearing those invisible cloaking gowns. The guy would be in the box trucks. They put micro phones in the rocks. They used scarey music to sound like something scary. “Applying this technology to clothing could make an individual effectively ‘invisible": said the Professor. who seemed over eagerly involved.And of course they used "the theremin". to scare the devish-meaness outta people. "I want the gold for my selfish self" we heard them agree to this! Said the Folk that were spying on these people.
Form: Ballad

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