Long Executes Poems

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


Parrot Script and Sanity

This persona, picks up the mask he placed beside the bed
And the actor, feels the lines he’s already read
They hang their syllables on his tongue
As they breath into his lungs
Answered by a soft restraining sigh
As he buries the reasons why
He no longer wants to be a part of this

It’s a footstep, taken through a place he no longer feels apart of
As he is cut by the angles of the brick
As they force their intrusion with their ugly, scraping intercepts
While his eyes hunger for the leaves
He hangs poised between their branches
Floating through the spaces between the grass blades
And sees the prison bars
Everything, including him constructed

This persona, so ready in its plastic skin of parody
Hopes that it appears to be an acceptable front for normality
But behind his hungry eyes
His separation dances in the skies
He’s not crazy in the spin, but some insanity beckons him
As the prison bars grow wider
If he could only just step through
And release himself from all the things
He thought he knew

As the day break, drips onto the essence of sublime
But his heart ache, tells him that he really doesn’t have the time
The repeat run between the gears
And his place amongst the cogs and wheels
Smoothly jerk upon the performance of their strings
Just like the puppet of himself, his day begins
While every piece of litter he calls his dreams
Are blown into the shadows in his soul   

The eyes see, but they don’t see anything anymore
They are a horizon, on a beach of some distant forgotten shore
While he hungers for the trees
The open fields where nature breathes
He fights to break his own perception 
Alone in a prison cell of his own making 
Every thing about him is scratched into the unyielding brick

His persona, so ready in its organization of plastic skin 
Prays that he executes a well played part in normalities theatre
But behind the sadness in his eyes
All he was has slowly turned to lies
When he touched upon the truth every person keeps inside
The desperate aching in everybody’s heart
To be free of all the deceit
Which stole their lives, from the very start

And as the prison bars grow ever wider still
He asks for the strength to just let go
He prays for the courage to step through
And pick up all the litter of his dreams
And release himself from all the things
He thought he knew


The Alluring Dance

Aye, what a revolution in red and orange against the
venom of society and culture
With the flowers of right palm though a gesture of dance
in fact covers her tears
A story of blue tension and deep emotion in red flamenco
so flamboyantly executes the dancer
The crimson movement of the lyrical arms and torso 
in sync with the guitar is awesome
Unique euphoria of exuberance in the swirl of a female figure
so provocative


What a dancing dream doing up the drawings of 
the body on the fly
What a message of moons in mounds you convey 
through the crafty curves
And each passing passion pulsates from prose to
poetry of muscles and bones
Eros encouraging us to transcend ourselves through
the journey of desire like a fountain
From brownish black towards the orange flames
on the comely conical mountains

And the warmly amber valley as it mingles with the
flames from the dancing spark
Blackens darkens and then harkens at joyous response
of mesmerized connoisseurs
Deepens the dense dance still further by generating
romantic proposition in her gestures
Unstoppable time hypnotized to stop for a moment to
stand and see how infinity can dance
Time itself in much ado on the long neck of
reddening movement

Aye, you dancing fire spreading your oranges everywhere
from Andalusia to Madrid
And then all over the globe amazing you me and all
in modern style of elegant gestures
Sliding the shoulder blades down the back and thus
the chest held proudly 
Inviting inquisitive attention to read the poems
up to the chin and down the tall back
Closing the eye for a few seconds we see in awe our fertile
dear earth in a dance of rebellion

The earthy and raw in a fascinating gesture of life
we do need to feel so much
That while in the midst of viewing what you interpret
we too get merged in the dancing colour
Aha! What a phenomenon

____________________________________________________
September 23, 2017
For the contest:Poems that paint a picture 3
Hosted by: Silent One

Down the Hill

Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Water flowing down a river passing over rocks and earth
Slowly gliding to the ocean from the reservoir of birth
Water’s Birth is at the peak and Water’s death is at the bottom
Moving in and out of trouble, downhill pattern of a slalom 
Outside forces, changing states, Constant friction, changing forms
Calling to a higher purpose, raining down above from storms
Feed the planet, work as one, move together, just survive
Advancement is the common goal that keeps the hopes and dreams alive
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Reach the peak, you never can, the peak is far away from man
Birth, so warm, Death so cold, running from that icy hold
Feel the tide and current strongly, never flowing off the path
Mother Nature’s happiest when water executes her wrath
Rivers, lakes, and streams all uniting and connected
Looking from the outside everything that’s done is just reflected
Pure and clear, until it’s tainted, untouched canvas, never painted
Heading to an end, depending on direction, ending up united, one collaborative collection
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Forks and splits that force decisions sooner than they wish to choose
Splitting up the current from who will win and who will lose
The ending is the same, but the journey is what matters
Filling up the empty space is where the water gathers
Ever inching towards the finish to be united once again
Circulating through a void that always comes back to the end
The end is never permanent, there always is a second chance
To make it’s way unto the earth and show the world it’s timeless dance
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member FAITH IN GOD WHO EXECUTES HIS JUDGMENTS

August 31 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Ezekiel 5-8

Key Verse – Ezekiel 5:8 Therefore thus saith the Lord GOD; Behold, I, even I, am against thee, and will execute judgments in the midst of thee in the sight of the nations.

FAITH IN GOD WHO EXECUTES HIS JUDGMENTS	

God executes His judgments of truthfulness
To exhort us to abide, by faith, in His holiness
Midst His righteousness for our testimony’s brightness
Since we are saved through His grace along His lovingkindness.

God executes His judgments of Biblical prophecy
To teach us to trust, by faith, His timeliness’ proficiency
Midst His sovereignty upon His wise consistency
Since we are His children whom He provides with His sufficiency.

God executes His judgments of warning
To admonish us to stay, by faith, in His will for our winning
Midst His counsel along His triumphant reigning
Since we are redeemed to overcome grievous sinning.

God executes His judgments of Scriptures’ fulfillment
To lead us to cleave to Him, by faith, with sincere commitment
Midst His guidance toward ministry-involvement
Since we are His stewards who must obey His commandment.

God executes His judgments of authority
To drive us to cling, by faith, to His goodness-purity
Midst His instructions of assertive certainty
Since we are privileged to worship Him for His Majesty.

God executes His judgments of wisdom
To move us to serve, by faith, in advancing His kingdom
Midst His empowerment along our spiritual freedom
Since we are bought with a price with His divine martyrdom.

God executes His judgments of victory
To enable us to show His gladness, by faith, against worry
Midst His might in sharing the Gospel story
Since we are His believers living for His glory.

August 31, 2025
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Persephone


Struggling
With carrying branches to dry for kindling,
Cursing
the seemingly extra long winter and those
who keep bringing it;
a shadow drifts over me like a primordial raven,
and a rush of unseen limbs streak past me.
Both alight before the barbed wire fence I keep meaning to repair
in the spring
in the summer
in the fall.
She turns her silhouette, robed in silver fur, towards me,
I cannot see her face.
Her white hand is on Cerberus
who has one brow furrowed, watching me.
One head is cocked, listening to the sharp whistle of wind
through withered boughs
the third is panting happily,
anticipating an unrestrained romp
through chaste snow.
I bend my knee in adoration 
of Persephone.
A slight incline of the hooded cloak
acknowledges my presence
and my subservience;
I am what she once was
and will never be again.
She stretches out a pallid hand,
smooth and supple for a woman of 2000 years,

this Queen of the Underworld
who executes the curses men place
upon the souls of the dead.
In the cup of her hand
glows a red pomegranate
she no longer needs.
From beneath her hood
shine orbs of quartz crystal,
I see my reflection in them
and draw closer.
Cerebus lays at the feet of his Queen,
two heads stretched out on paws,
impassively watching my progress,
the third seeking my eyes, a low growl of warning
indicating that I know my place
as subject.
I reach out upturned palms in faith
and the hood inclines again
I close my eyes, 
a furious flurry of shrieking wind
envelops me.
The fury subsides. I feel the warmth of the afternoon sun.
I open my eyes to snowdrops, crowding a carpet of green
and pregnant branches thrusting their limbs
towards the sky,
and in my hand
is a pomegranate.


Oh Crow- a Poem In Thy Name

The story of the thirsty crow,
heard during  school days as we grew...
How best in it its wisdom used,
to quench its thirst that summer day
An efficient use of available resource,
to realise a fruitful purpose..
A display of prowess in its fullest sheen,
a situational managerial skill !

Relating crow with intelligence is
not just a random chance factor
Research has already proven that-
This ave is witty and wiser!
Strong in memory,mimicry and
understanding humans as well..
How well this bird integrates in our life
with its adaptive behavioural skill!!!

Elegant black and beautiful
dissolved in it every shade...
Leads a gregarious life, 
Shares its food, whenever it finds,
with its kith and kin...
Spreading a message of joy in sharing
and a cordial social life!!!

Chooses a single partner all its life,
Builds its nest, feeds the young,
Protects and nutures them with love ..
Family values and responsibility, I wonder
how it plans and executes so well!!!

Corvus brachyrhynchus- 
this is its scientific name...
Genus corvus has in it species numbering forty
American crow, hooded crow, house crow....
List stretches in continuity!

Oh crow! You have your place in
every walk of life!
Research, religion, ritual,
Mythology, folklore, cultural...
Irish mythology sees in you- Morrigan,
God of death and birth
Hindu religion regards you as 
their departed ancestor!
Tibetian buddhists associate you with Mahakala
Omens of you are believed to bring
signals from the uncanny world!
You are treated as a connecting link in
the cycle of birth and death!
Oh darling crow! Cheers to you!
This poem in thy name!
© Anu Nayak  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Cog In the Machine

*Image of Education by UY.

A Cog in The Machine

Life advances their kind of entrusting stays,
origin of roots possessing foundation,
flung to care sprouts variable promises,
~~executes each seed.

The great void advents the id of emptiness;
launched needs, yet farfetched and demanding the task,
contending the fathom fact of dimensions,
~~inception account.

Countless bearings operate the mechanism,
instants cognitive effortless life makers,
quintessential beats absence into the void,
~~marked units of time.

Simplistic explanative of a machine,
the inner workings of every component,
jointly toiling as a singularity,
~~a fitting duty.

A pristine canvas lengthens on a tripod,
while a sable paintbrush jabs an empty point,
visionist Seurat and Signac rethink art,
~~Pointillist purview.

A concert hall seasons an orchestra pit,
woodwinds, brass, percussion, strings, keyboards, chorale,
symphonic blends as a meek piccolo peal,
~~a highest-pitched tune.

The world is our stage where we fulfill our roles,
all taking part in a scene that is rehearsed,
a constant performance since opening night,
~~functioning beings.

Inconsequential entity's conjuring
queries who's who, what's what drives absoluteness, 
amassed strays, exacts focus o'er all, for I ...
~~... am the unique one.

2022 May 17
*1st Place*
Pick-A-Title, Vol 30
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 May 29

*Title #3
HMS; 11,11,11,5 syllables x 32 lines = 8 sapphic stanzas
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member FAITH IN GOD WHO EXECUTES JUDGMENTS WITH HIS TRUTH

September 7 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Ezekiel 25-27

Key Verse – Ezekiel 25:11 And I will execute judgments upon Moab; and they shall know that I am the LORD.

FAITH IN GOD WHO EXECUTES JUDGMENTS WITH HIS TRUTH	

God executes judgements with His truth’s authority
While increasing our faith midst Scriptural finality
By His omnipotence along His immutability  
Against attacking uncertainty.

God executes judgements with His truth’s trustworthiness
While upholding our faith midst salvation-steadfastness
By His promises along His graciousness  
Against lurking deceitfulness.

God executes judgements with His truth’s guidance
While girding our faith midst redemption-assurance
By His faithfulness along His performance  
Against devastating arrogance.

God executes judgements with His truth’s Word
While securing our faith midst Spirit’s sword
By His precepts along His principles’ accord  
Against confusing discord.

God executes judgements with His truth’s sanctification
While purifying our faith midst our transformation 
By His righteousness along His holiness-action
Against devastating indignation.

God executes judgements with His truth’s empowerment
While enabling our faith midst servanthood-fulfillment
By His might along His ready enablement  
Against weakening commitment.

God executes judgements with His truth’s reign
While guarding our faith midst stewardship-gain
By His standards along His discipleship’s terrain  
Against disgusting slothfulness’ strain.

September 7, 2025
Form: Quatrain

Flying Machines

Flying Machines

It’s Father’s Day and the Hamilton Airshow 
has been buzzing around our house
the whole weekend long.
I’ve seen all sorts of planes fly overhead before
but, something about these magnificent 
flying giants stirs my spirit.
I hear the rumble of the Mitchell
and scan the sky ahead of the place
where I think the sound is coming from.
The silhouette, so easily identified;
two prop-engines, stubby body and 
twin fins on the tail, 
seems to crawl across the sky.
And then I hear a deep-throated growl.
This silhouette, unique to North America,
is longer than the Mitchell’s,
with four prop-engines and 
the same distinctive twin tail;
it can only be the Lancaster.
Unbelievably, incredibly, 
its enormous bulk lumbers above
and somehow stays aloft.
The air itself reverberates as this
amazing, mechanical marvel executes
a slow banking turn, directly above my head.
The noise is deafening as I recall 
Dave telling one of the very few “war stories”
he ever shared.
Being on a base in England,
his squad, having loaded bombs onto
twenty Lancs during the day and then 
waiting through the night for their return.
Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, 
then silence.
Finally hearing the next day
that the twentieth crew had ditched in the channel.
I can’t imagine the fear and awe 
that hundreds of Lancs flying in formation
would evoke.
The sky is quiet now.
All the fathers and families
heading home to their BBQ celebrations
knowing that these two old warriors and their crews
are safely home tonight too.
© Susan Linn  Create an image from this poem.

Chihuahua Football At the Rose Hill Stadium

Chihuahua Football At The Rose Hill Stadium
Watching football at home with my little dogs on a cold winter night, I realize that I coach my 
own football team.
 
Running deep far into the football field at the Rose Hill Stadium (Which is my vegetable-dyed 
Persian rug that I bought at an estate sale to cover my hardwoods.) is Piglet, a young and 
highly spirited white short-hair Chihuahua, who happens to also be a neutered male, ripped 
with lots of muscles and little body fat.  Piglet leaps up high and is able to catch in mid-air 
the fluffy white piece of parmesan cheese covered popcorn with his cute little white teeth. 
(That I just brushed with chicken flavored toothpaste after his bath)
 
Tessie, the long-haired, black and white female Chihuahua, who is not so lean, executes 
most of her plays as the defensive tackle position.  She often blocks Piglet from catching his 
popcorn and also profits from his fumbles, by intercepting his popcorn and eating it before 
she is able to execute a perfect touchdown.  (Haven’t managed to teach her to delay eating 
her popcorn yet)
 
Each year they get better and better, next year they might be ready to take their show on 
the road.  Until then, they have until the Super Bowl to practice their four footed maneuvers 
and tricks.  At best, they could make it to Letterman's Stupid Pet Tricks some day soon.
 
(No harm was done to animals in preparation of writing this poem or playing Chihuahua 
Football)

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