Long Entertainment Poems

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


Mum Had To Record the News For My Dad Religiously

My father was exceedingly
intelligent and well versed
and worldly wise

Despite and inspite of his
humble working class beginnings
and lack of formal education

He used to say education and
common sense are completely
different

Smart people are often said or
are refered to as being well read

But my father was not a great
reader he drew or the source
of his knowledge

Was reading newspapers and
watching the news religiously

So much so he made my mother
tape the news everyday without
fail

But the news he watched is
so far removed from that
is served up to us today

Because the news today has 
become weaponised not for
good but for nefarious use

Stealth and entertainment
triumphs over content and factual
non-baised reporting

Not so much a tool for educating 
and imparting knowledge trying
to induce thoughtful debate

But rather lecture and tell us
all what we are supposed or
allowed to say and think

Freedom of speech so long as 
you agree with us

And god forbid if you disagree 
even if you have a valid point 
to argue

You will either be cut off
shot down or labelled and
tagged or made a pariah of

Fake news 
Stealth agenda

Purveyors of the most
powerful virus in the history
of humanity

Corruption of the mind
via unfettered unregulated
propaganda


a newspaper the guardian

A Newspaper


Once upon a time, the Guardian was a famous newspaper 
it was democratic, to a certain extent, and readers are 
invited to give their view, but with moderation and niceness
 If not, they would politely ban the regressor
When the paper was famous, it was a bit left-wing, but always ready to see the other point of view
It was pro-Israel, defending Palestinian artists' rights 
while overlooking as long as possible, the utter brutality 
of Israeli politics against, say, Palestinians 
The fact that the Guardian has been able to change is its
 ability to alter its stands, yet holding to their journalistic 
who are not left-wing, except for some of them who 
 Thanks to nature and time, they have wings.
Today, the Guardian is no longer a newspaper; it is more 
like a color magazine dedicated to true sex stories shies 
not away from lesbianism and what we now call gayness
It caters to a younger middle class, employed in, I think
show business, or the media, with titles like TV analyst
Or a researcher of AI, who will one day make all of them
out of work
When I get up in the morning, I drink a cup of coffee and 
For entertainment, read the Guardian
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

Cheer

The lights are blaring
The team is playing hard
The stadium rumbles the ground
With movement
...and cheer

Down in the street
The earth moves
With the shattering of windows
And loud cries
...and fear

The crafts are displayed
The tents hold beautiful treasure
Parades tell of wondrous joy
Feelings tingle the tinsel
...and peer

......back
..................and forth
..................................here is too near

The season is here
It is upon is...this very moment
Gifts are being bought
People still planning
...void

The illusion dissipates
At the feet of TRUTH
Idolatry at the heart
We bartered our youth

Children don't need lies
Adults needed entertainment
Gainsay palatable
For the familiar feeling
....cheer

Sweet taste
Bitter digestion
Idol work
Spider infestation
....bluh!

Hope shews forth LOVE
Nothing else will do
Cheer dredged in sickly fear
Equals Holiday stew

Written by Trudy Schrader on 12/15/2021

Premium Member Mockingbirds Entertain

Mockingbirds' entertainment
         As the sunrises
            Underneath cobalt skies
                 Sending forth yellow muted beams
                       Into a world of mankind's silence

Pecan trees' young tender leaves
         Have filled out, matured, color deepened
                  Darkness still fills the woods
                          As woodpecker comes to life
                                    

Fragrance of magnolia blossoms
        Floats upon cool morning air
               It's scent and gardenia intersect
                       Surrounding my nose with delight

The cool air is quite still
          There is no susurration in the trees
                   Only the sound of songbirds
                        A chorus radiates from each tree

The sound of mankind traveling
          Two cars come up the road
                   Speeding along in confidence
                           Going to work or home~ who knows

Thank you, God
              For time out on the porch
                      A few minutes to commune with You and nature
                                 Help me to make it through this day
                                           Doing what I can

Premium Member Did You Hear That

Running, dripping, or still; 
Life's a faucet, we’re a thirst, 
To never drink our fill.
We drink and think 
We are immune to pain from one another, 
But brother, when it comes, 
The waterfall or shower towers each 
To block the sun. 
Into a depth of puddles we stare 
With all the wishes hearts forsake.  
While voices whisper 
From each rain for us to wake. 
All drops stop, then disappear, 
Take no side but reach our ear 
In long or shorter stride to touch 
The origin inside.
The place from which no one can hide; 
The Hand that turns our faucet on or off.
From caves to huts and soup to nuts, 
Each of us an entertainment, 
The scope of which directed by 
The compass of our choice. 
We have and hear a different voice,
But it is our own we stretch 
Across this voided earth, 
Spiked with certain curtains and callings 
Our ceilings manufactured. 
These times are not newer 
Because there are fewer miles 
Of synapse between us. 
It is a small but constant distance 
From cheek to cuspidor 
And what is not expected 
Is expectorant on the floor 
As we walk into our slippers 
Through each shower of hours. 
Chapters of happiness layered 
With a faith that is guided by 
What we have been without. 
It is far more elegant to dress 
Our moments in what is missing 
Than dismissing the obvious 
For the want of more, 
Yet to stop is to become 
That which we were chasing. 
Our ears grow with age. 
While cold guides our fingers flattened rage. 
We can say what we will, turn the page, 
Or eat a pie, starting every bite with I. 
Who would be the wiser? 
What gains a penny whose face is proud 
And speaks aloud to the backside of a life? 
Follow or fallow It’s what we are made of; 
Harvesting hairs, split with indifferences 
Spilling from the mouths of babes, 
But Maybe baby, we just want to be held 
One more time before we go, 
While knowledge and understanding 
Come from the language of others. 
Each place or face is a foreign orb 
That we err or blur into a refinement. 
It is not a magic pencil but a crazy crayon 
From which the cartoons of our life are born. 
Oh Gabriel, come blow that horn!


Premium Member Ode to Delight

       
            Oh , pretty pet cat  'Delight',

              snow white !

              You oves to stand and sit,
             
              on my sofa, always close to me.

              As I pat you , you close your eyes in delight

               It's my great pleasure at my leisure 

                to sit with you side by side.

               
               You  wander in kitchen, 

              like to steal candy to eat
                                                                                                                         
               on any  moment as an entertainment:

                 Dear Dear My Dear

                  My lovely child ! You are my most favourite.
cat
Form: Ode

Premium Member The Gong Show

A powerhouse of gregarious silliness
for our delight and entertainment
Chuck Barris weekly orchestrates
his national amateur talent show
comprised of bizarre exploits
none of your conventional class acts
unique offbeat eccentric spectacles 	 
for the questionable and less discerning palate 
guaranteed a few good laughs peppered by
resounding sounds of the gong ong ong

Walks in brown bag over head
the unknown comic snickering
unloading sarcasm by the truckload
taunting daring wingnuts on standby
Chuck invites lineups of hopeful contestants
out to show off their disputable skills and talents
performers dubious absurd and outlandish
come for their five minutes of fame and glory
most delusional hoping not to hear reverberate
resounding sounds of the gong ong ong

Comes singer Boxcar Willie followed by
Gene Gene the Dancing Machine
the anticipation at an all time high
it’s a circus invasion on our tv
flaunting their wares publicly on air
exhibitions with guts and little pride
worst acts of the week preposterous
scores on scale 0 to 10 overruled
contributing to the silliness of our youth
the resounding sounds of the gong ong ong     



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~RANDOM MUSINGS VOL.2~ 2020

AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on August 27, 2020 for contest LIVING IT UP FOR LAUGHTER sponsored by CHANTELLE ANNE COOKE  -  RANKED 2ND

Premium Member Entertainment-F

In a community deep in the Southern land of feed corn and cotton,
The more basic things of life are best treasured and unforgotten.
Newspapers and Radios, Jack Rocks and Jump Ropes, Pop Whips,              Hide and Seek.

In child’s play, we sang our lines, closed our eyes, and did not peep.
Checkers and Old Maid, Red Wagons and Hula Hoops, Boys with pockets of marbles. All these and more, when kids never had to be afraid of armed bandits and robbers.

Rubber Balls and Home Made Bats, having fun running and rolling rubber tires. All these treats and more, when kids watched birds land on electric wires. Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, The Lord’s Prayer, The 23rd Psalms, and Ten Commandments; A simpler place and time, walking shoeless in the dust and avoiding hot pavements. All these and more, after the chores, were better known as “Entertainment”.

All these and more were ways that we spent our time, long before we owned TV’s or Telephones. I’ve seen the Atlantic in New York and walked the sandy beaches of the Pacific in San Francisco, but Southern memories are fresh of the unforgettable treasures in a place I once called home.

05232007PSCtest, Impress Me With An Old Poem (002), Poet Destroyer A

Premium Member Zephyrs

Cool breezy swirl
Pregnant with rain;
Abrupt metaphor


Man walking dog
Faces so alike;
Harmonic motion


News flash
Warring fractions;
Lose-lose situation


Grass verge flowers
Unceremonious strands;
Beauty unnoticed


Old rubber tree
Nature's monument;
Wears a regal countenance


Sky of grey-black
Random lightning flash;
Nature re-decorating


Feline chorus 
Evening entertainment;
Midnight madness


Easy breezy
Zephyrs swirl and dance;
Cold evening gathers


Between sad and bad
Choose to be glad;
Weather grim change 



Leon Enriquez
14 August 2014
Singapore
Form: Haiku

Gigwiser

Loser changes name match
The Concernment of People 
Cellar Toss verses Mil Mascot
Came about due to the high
Venue prices. Said Peom. 
A outlook of fans and media
a Concernment of greed and
Se to dishness, spoke many
Concerned. 
Wisdom of Savants and Meres
(Peoples Priorities) Nicknames
that causes concerns. He Lavish
could target critsium from those
who feel to he backlash from there
entertainment interest. The loser shall
wear the name"Big Meanie" due to contractual
Concerns . A ticket buying public pushes the
envelope, a ticket buying public
Wises to raise there glass in honor
 not in fear. Real. World issues, concerns
real people not corporate hypocrates 
A champion talks championships
A champion doesn't stumble over situations
Unskilled and troubled. 
The outcome is defeat not parish!
Form: Bio

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