Long Explanation Poems
Long Explanation Poems. Below are the most popular long Explanation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Explanation poems by poem length and keyword.
Sea of searching tore hope without explanation
Crucified crests cascaded, crazed static fall crashing
Thrown spontaneous needs, unclean situations
Wayward waltz of flotsam incongruity, faith attacking
Tossed by tumult of quick duty drifters expected
Wanton women sought whimsy single wave provided
Crudest crass antics satisfied, longevity rejected
Your initial impression of love soured, ineptly guided
Passing storms glinted possibilitiy, gold molten
Tides' turn triggered stability, a precious daughter born
Island high respite bleached prior sin, forgotten
Barbaric baby mother forced ongoing warranted scorn
Struggle to maintain safety, sentry shipwrecked
Shattered bow released soul mate satiate foreseeable
Tormented tiny child splintered fragile prospect
Cuts met welted wounds, salt sterile from recent evils
Collapse on a beach of relief, I'm your purest cove
Bloodied hands bandaged, nurtured with tender heed
Mollusc polished particles to resume trust's trove
Immortal vessel promise predicts turgid tides recede
24th October 2020
Written for Contest: After The Hurricane
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
picture to take inspiration from is
'After The Hurricane, Bahamas',
painted by Winslow Homer
-Quarantine of the Soul-
Tranquil pills fall deep like the night
A sweet fangless course
Bites with no remorse
Your eyes struggle to read my ageless soul
Lost
Dark
You open a heart under Quarantine
The past
The present
The future
Stand in the way of what was and never will be
A contagious disease
I call "LOVE!"
(Past-- you came)
Somewhere deep inside --with you--
The Maverick
The Majestic
The Arriving Vessel of Light
I separated myself from the world
--to be with you--
I polished a new diamond night
With pleasures of meeting where our hearts began
Deep like the night, you woke my sleepless soul
Removing it from the safe harbor of the sea
-Isolated from all to see
No risk or chance, of smiling endlessly
(Present-- you set)
Tonight you fell from Mandalay
You spoke in a way that Cut my throat with truth
You detained my ego clouding the auspices sky
Allowing a smile
A tender peek into your heart
It spread in ways -- I wanted more
I kept deep until you found your way past the door
Persistent memories
In search of eternity
Tonight lets learn to live again
With no fear, I remove all labels
Making the moon and sun rise together
My love, my life now depends on you
(Future-- you left)
With no explanation
The age of Quarantine will forever set
You came to me
Set me free
Just to leave
Now you are a virus --- Just like them!!!
By: PD
a minute poem
My sweetheart had it in his head
when first we wed,
from loving groom
my nom de plume.
The name he calls me, Reason A.,
like cabernet
rolls off the tongue
like music sung.
No rhyme or reason could I find
to reassign
his nickname sworn -
my pen name born.
November 26, 2021
explanation:
Reason A. Goodwin, an editor of World Book Encyclopedia Dictionary, was a word judge on the original Password Game Show. The producers got upset with him the first time he was called upon to challenge a word, he looked it up in his dictionary. They said, "We could have hired any girl to look up a word."
My husband loved the show and started calling me "Dr. Reason A. Poteet" anytime we argued about things. His favorite expression has always been, "You just never know." to which I always reply, "But you can find out."
Though rather tepid,
this aspect of my life,
I coon sitter tubby cool
and hoop fully ye
(unknown reader
will quickly warm)
e'en if thee option
to stay abed
might cuz ya to drool
though this re: son hubble
mister rhyme stir
(in this instance) enjoyably
playing the role
of "FAKE" fool
barely breaking a cerebral sweat,
sans minimally exerting
mine mental capacity,
(which got set
to cruise control)
luxuriating at exemption, space/
time continuum junction,
and option to arise
whenever I want, joyfully cries,
sans this pleasure to exercise
allowance to avoid "rat race,"
(though mine circadian
rhythm usually jostles
me (Joe Cur)
awake mid morning,
when dream state flies
away Chuck Norris lies,
no explanation to include
above name sake),
this will be my oh
chew weary,
boot before thy demise
lemme summarily apprise
circumstances (moost NOT
envied by other gals and guise)
cuz receiving social security disability
(predicated on major panic attacks,
social anxiety,
and schizoid personality
disorder NOT tubby confused
with schizophrenia) defies
explanation former severe
debilitating, harrowing,
and lacerating symptoms
decreased with medication,
yet the better (or rather
worse) part of my life,
argh...time to shies and Ryan!
t started about a fortnight ago, I think, I began to hear bells ringing. They sound as if they are coming from far away. I listen carefully, and yes, it is exactly the same sound I heard when I was a child. One winter day I was riding in a sleigh pulled by a pony in the botanical garden, and I remember the jingle of bells on the sleigh's shafts. I felt blissful pleasure, unclouded by a single thought. I was five or six years old, I don't remember exactly. I’m not the type of person who is immersed in the past, like Marcel Proust, and I’m not particularly fond of childhood memories. But memories do not ask when they should appear; they simply intrude into one's current life, and always without any apparent reason. I go into the kitchen to wash the dishes and put the kettle on, and I hear the enchanting sound of bells ringing from somewhere far away in the corridor. Of course, there is nothing like bells in the corridor, or anywhere else in the flat. But why do I hear this sound? Can’t understand it. The only thing I understand is that it is unlikely to be a coincidence. Perhaps the ringing of bells means something that I have missed or failed to notice? Most likely, something is happening to me that I am unaware of – but I could've guessed if I had been more attentive. Unfortunately, attentiveness is not my strong suit; I've never been observant, especially when it comes to myself. I have yet to discover why I hear the bells. I expect that the explanation will come naturally, and it will satisfy me in any case. I don't intend to delve into this issue, study it, investigate the cause, and so on. A hint will suffice.
Who am I
If not an entity which
Science keeps trying to explain
And mysticism keeps trying to elevate?
Who am I
If not a mystery inhabiting a human body
When
Luck could have allowed me
To be a butterfly, a bee or even a worm?
Who am I
Trying to pen down a verse
Hoping to give myself an explanation
About my own essence
When no one else in this world
And no other power, claiming to be as potent
As the mystery which shrouds us all
Can do such?
Why,
Who am I
If not a mixture of molecules
Going where the wind blows me
And where the tides take me
So that someday
When I shall cease to be that
I shall look back and understand, then,
About which I was but
Which I could never explain?
I am music in a symphony,
I am light amidst this blurry world
I am love when faced with hatred
I am poetry in a book
I am prayers in a place of worship
I am kindness in a selfish world
I am unexplainable
To myself!
Who am I then?
Who am I?
If you do know
Please open up my eyes
And let me see that which I am!
9th January 2022
Ignorance is bliss a cliche we often hear
Do people really believe this to be true
Without full and complete understanding
It could turn into quite the issue
Ignorance equals arrogance is what I believe
And assuming is not to confirm
That's being to arrogant to investigate
Which to some is a real concern
If indeed it's not confirmed
Then relaxation can not be obtained
For a complete state of relaxation
Nothing should be left unexplained
To gain an explanation
And let relaxation be attained
Perform a proper investigation
So your ignorance can not be blamed
To be blissful one would have to be relaxed
One can't relax knowing something's untrue
That often heard common cliche
Ignorance is bliss says who?
Written 3 April 2016
Judged 7 April 2016
A fine man of his time, has proper explanation
for our predicament. No good man would look him down even
if they disagreed on face masks. He stayed on the deeply alien Trump land
where fantasy reigned with vehement surge in parallel to the disease.
You may commend him, or reprehend him, nothing affects his mission to
guide us to safety. If praise is needed, he elbows it to the side. To feats of platitude he's a total stranger, speaking with reason next to a phantom of opera and his zeal for wilderness of delirium. Acute is the pandemic and his place in history reserved in the circle of giants, the greatest of our era. In confidence, he's tracking down a virus in its black thundercloud, a light that sheds a modest ray with magnanimous lament. We are bound to him as a teacher and philosopher who learns from immemorial sages and their warm and tranquil nests with bursts of energy on his calm, sweet face that speaks truth to the power of disease, what he foremost relishes is a good vaccine news.
Standing here in the mind of mine
passing through and over time
pulling out thoughts sublime:
sorrow, hate, pain, joy, love, sanity--
all the mould character of my humanity;
On the outside, my African character is evident
despite the imprinted middle passage incident,
and on the inside, I'm American born and bred...
child of the black bent backs of the ancestral dead...
still here in the land of the other misnamed: called red;
Memories are like a flowing meadow's storied river;
meandering, undulating, and splashing out to sea,
seeking to reunite with and become one with the Giver
who moulded us all...making you and creating me.
N*****, slave, coloured, *****, African-American,
is what they chose then and now to call mine and me
but like the river flowing to the sea, I'll decide who to be
here in the land of the Brave, I'll be an Ameri-African man;
not your beast of burden slave—sweat and blood for the land.
Africa is...America is...and I am of no need
of an explanation;
standing in the life-long memories of the nature
of my exploitation,
and realizing I no longer need to be a footnote*
in his story
but a complete sentence in the boldface truth
of our story!
*Imagine this for me: if I was them and they were us and I did to them what they did to us, would that not be reciprocity from the tinted true tribe of the exodus?
I was in the mood
for a real page-turner.
My bibliophile friend
handed me a book of white-knuckle suspense.
"Read this! It's quite a doozy!," she promised.
And she wasn't lying....
I blew off many a phone call,
filed away my to-do lists,
prioritized book above all hobbies,
yadda yadda.....
I was surprised how fast I got to
the final chapter.
Alas, I didn't get to close the book.
Not yet anyway...
A surprise I never anticipated, you see.
Ugh, never have I
groaned so loudly in my life!
Jane knew I'd come to her
confused, demanding an explanation....
"Hey, is this your idea of a practical joke?", I asked.
She guffawed her "Yes,"
handing me
the last page she tore out.
Silly gal, best believe I'll get her back.....