Long Everyplace Poems
Long Everyplace Poems. Below are the most popular long Everyplace by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Everyplace poems by poem length and keyword.
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If I was a girl in this modern world, I shoot for this stars the first woman on mars, a doctor a lawyer, a CEO. Education and hard work, my ticket to the show. Nothing could stop me, but that's half the tail. The other half has a different pay scale.
Relentless, pervasive, there's nowhere to hide. If I were a man, I'd blacken that eye. How long can I run? Barely living in fear. What will he do next? I cannot work here. Where can I go? I can not give in. He'll just keep pushing, again and again.
It's the same everyplace. It's not what I saw. Dreams became nightmares, escaping their claws. Head on a swivel. What did I hear? On every last front, year after year. If I want to move up, then I've got to play, if it's not that, there's glass in the way.
We have to do better, If we call ourselves men. this can not go on. It's time to step in. We start with our boys, we take on our kin. Protecting women is what makes us men. don't let them whisper that snyde innuendo. Confront and demean him, toss him out of the window. I don't care what it takes, if it's something you do, Get your boot off her neck. We're coming for you.
Within the strands that capture attention,
Layered by levels to constantly attract.
Is a web that's woven in multiplicity,
Ensnaring reality while hidden and abstract.
Born to inform and enlighten a community,
Its growth has been exponential in its place.
With few boundaries to hold the imagination,
The spread's been viral to the globe everyplace.
Throughout this creation, the content evolved quickly,
Where now the truth is often hidden or obscured.
As if fantasy has uprooted its true value,
Offering no guarantees once insured.
Spinning tirelessly, new cobwebs are left easily,
Where many flies are stuck on big lies and fake news.
Leaving those informed, to question the validity,
As to what's real, or is it just to confuse?
All the while, it only keeps growing to maturity,
With an appetite that's ravenous and obese.
Yet there's no one to monitor any menu,
Or somehow regulate the consumption to police.
So it would seem that more trawlers will be needed,
Casting their ever-widening nets to the sea.
And while few show concern for over-fishing ...
I'm left to wonder, if the catch is reality.
Christmas is for children, a time of wonders and wishes
Christmas is for children, once a year treats delicious
Decorations of sparkling reds and greens
overflow everyplace in delightful extremes
Wanting gifts from jolly old Saint Nick
hoping naughty times he can forgive and forget
Desring snow and wanting frosty cold
the merriment of the season to be told and retold
Christmas is for children, happy carols to sing
Christmas is for children, let joyful hearts ring
Presents and gifts, puppies and kittens
Stockings hung and fuzzy warm mittens
Eggnog and candy canes, cookies and smiles
Atonement and forgiveness, our family and pals
Christmas is for children, children still young and even those old
For the Love of Christmas our Savior as a child bestowed
The golden hour for rising has arrived, and there are violet roses in the sky,
So, I bid hello to you, my robust friend, as the vibrant, cerise birds float by.
The obsidian night, it was very long, and was filled with pleasant dreaming,
Like scenes from the heart of jade forests, where lush nature is screaming.
But the dark hours seem as ages past, since you have risen on the horizon,
Reflecting your glory in the limpid waters, as day slowly begins to brighten.
So nice to see you again, my old friend, peering in the doors and windows,
As beautiful songs from emerald trees, begin their daily, rapid crescendos.
Soon all the world will be colorful and glad, like skyward birthday balloons,
Drifting on backlit skies of somewhere, like the aromas of various blooms!
We've traveled a long way, you and I, and like orioles, we've gone together,
Screaming our joys at midday hour, as warmth blankets the divers weather.
You trail every individual, peach dawn to dusk, and from season to season,
Forever going in and out of our lives, silently, and without apparent reason.
My work as a seasonal park ranger, has kept me in the glitter of your gaze,
As gorgeous wildflowers pursue us all, down the myriad, natural pathways.
Living with my family and my cat, and having a happy life on Pretty Street,
We danced all through deep amber days, terribly soon to become obsolete.
And often enjoyed memorable outings, birthday parties, and get togethers,
Like the euphoria of your floral days, are inclined to following predecessors.
Days at the beach, days at the park, ballgames or fun backyard barbecues,
At the happiest of times, everyplace I look, the first thing that I see is you.
And in olden, golden days, when I played on and on, your warmth was felt,
Like the presence of bittersweet autumn rose, though unseen, lately smelt!
Sweet summer evenings, you gazed redly, to say your melancholy goodbye,
Like the redness that strangely appears, when you're trying hard not to cry.
Crickets in the lilac bush, butterflies in the grass, all smile to greet the sun,
And yellow days are started and soon done, in dreamlike, skyward visions!
Flowers titter in warm, fragrant meadows, and oceans shudder with delight,
People beam at your kind warmth, and robins sing once they see your light!
Once upon a time in an alluring place
Flourishing realm sweet with seasons showers pace
The earth food for life the lush greenness embrace
Array of flowering plants that twirl and lace
Birds twittered on leafy branches full of grace
Rare butterflies with wide, vibrant wings took chase
Bobbing on the breezeless air they dare through space
Charmed fairies if you gaze close into their face
They sniffed the air scared to be spotted they’ll race
Satyrs played pan flutes others danced everyplace
While others sang a phrase carrying a mace
“Steady my heart; scented blooms cannot unlace
The beauty of your face I cannot erase”
Dare venture down a well-trod maze; rocks retrace
Your way back dazed so be prepared just in case
2/13/2017
Poetry Contest: Monorhyme
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Many abandoned me; yet, I’m their very need.
Those that want me in place; are displaced, killed or imprisoned.
The dead are crying for peace; but not the living.
Though, dead. Yet, pursuing peace for the living humanity
The living humanity, yes, the living never sees my usefulness;
but what they got from denying me in the world, that matters.
Looking into the minds of singers of peace, they made deals, and get cash out.
The living humanities choose other things before me.
Only the dead knows my importance, they refused to smile in their decaying home- “grave”.
You talk about me openly, in your secret, you sponsor an attack on me.
I'm sad with those that my absence has made sad;
Who’s pursuing peace among you that write or speak about me?
As essential as your lives; so do I in your life.
Chase after me; ye that wants me like life, and I will add other things to you.
Ignoring me, there’s will be no humanities, and no life.
I’m feeling unsettled, as if the weight of my fears is creeping in; the thought of fading from everyone’s memory is haunting me.
Everyplace, and everywhere; they discuss me, yet, nothing…;
Chase after me, and reclaim your life and the world you once knew.
I'm that world.
Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing
Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.
Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch
survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.
Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating
mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.
Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness
upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.
Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook
ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business
swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook
cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.
Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged
top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige
vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere
heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.
There's so many times in life
I feel days cut like a knife
Stabbing me right in the heart
As badness won't ever part
When the minutes drag with pain
And hours are being slain
With the sharpness pushing in
When more horror days begin
There's no escape I just deal
With the sorrow that I feel
As emotions in my gut
Pour out more with each new cut
That I receive every time
Your memory is on my mind
Pictures start to come up first
And bad times begin to burst
As my brain will see your face
Everywhere and everyplace
I'm trying to let them go
But the process is very slow
Of forgetting what you have done
Taking off and on the run
With a new love you desired
Saying you were bored and tired
From years we have spent together
So you cut away and sever
All my love that was attached
Now someone else grabbed and snatched
You away with no return
As my hearts starting to burn
With each fiery new stab
From love I no longer have
Your memory paid a visit to the darkest corner of my mind today
I tried not to notice it but old feelings kept getting in my way
These people in this place I'm at keep telling me that I shouldn't care
But everyplace I go to hide you're memory always somehow finds me there
I still see your face, everytime I close my eyes
I can't seem to forget you, no matter what I try
Everytime that I hide, you come and find me
There's not a thing that I can do that helps me shake your memory
Last night I used a bottle trying to drown your memory from my mind
But when my glass was empty you showed up at the bottom every time
The more I drank the farther I thought that it would push those thoughts from me
But no matter what I do I just can't seem to shake your memory
I still see your face, everytime I close my eyes
I can't seem to forget you, no matter what I try
Everytime that I hide, you come and find me
There's not a thing that I can do that helps me shake your memory
When I was young I believed angels were shy
content to remain in the shadows of the day and night
happy to watch over and protect us while remaining out of sight
Growing up in the Catholic Church…this is what I was taught
but the older I grow I’ve come to believe…angels are not as shy as I once thought.
Nor are they all sent from heaven…no I think many angels can be found…
down hear upon the Earth…spreading kindness all around.
All along this trip we’ve encountered angels…who have helped us every day
in the airport, everyplace we’ve stayed…with our car…
when we were lost…couldn’t find our way
People who stopped, smiled, listened, lent us a hand…
who were more than willing to share.
which enhanced my belief that surrounding us are angels everywhere.
Waiters, bell hops, clerks behind the counters, people on the street
angels we have never known but were fortunate to meet
As we walked the streets of Old Quebec City today…
angels were everywhere to help us with any undertaking or task…
and we found out sometimes an angel will help…without even being asked!
Yes, here in Canada where in a different culture we have found ourselves entrenched
we realized there are even angels who can speak to us in French.
In fact, this being an international tourist town…
we’ve heard, Chinese, Indian, Russian, Spanish, Dutch and Greek
It appears there isn’t any language angels do not speak
Which makes us want to try and be angels from now on…
every day of every week…
because, as all these angels have reminded us:
Kindness is a universal language everyone can speak.