Long Extras Poems
Long Extras Poems. Below are the most popular long Extras by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Extras poems by poem length and keyword.
Ice Burge And The Warning
What is life
memories fade away
like youth and the things of the day
talent, skills, and lessons learned
the heat of a flame that burns
poetic passions
and thoughts discerned
time and days to live and learn
who and what to serve
the Jews serve God by remembering his days
yet I fear very few
are familiar with his ways
and don't you think it's kind of funny
look at how much they love their money
those who expect extras for free
when your already working for them
cheap cheap cheap
will never leave you a tip
but they'll push or guilt you for a discount
even if your already pissed
those who learn to serve Mammon
sail upon deep and dangerous waters
in their mighty yet sinking ships
It is a warning
for I fear that another Hitler will rise
or worse
the anti-Christ
the son of God was a Jew
and don't you ever wonder
who and what are you
can you see the world through eyes like these
the Sabbath a sign between God and his own
yet the world rests with the beast
and he just might sink his teeth into you
on his next holy day feast
it is a warning
a warning to the children of God
and to the world
and to all of those who become filled with greed
you cannot love God and Mammon
God's true children are humble and meek
you cannot be his child
with out a heart full of love and charity
possession oppression possession oppression
war a demonic feast
and the world will surely destroy herself
I just pray she does not destroy you or me
I offend all for all offend God
who lives without sin
every woman and every man
needs to earnestly repent
and can you see what time it is
the monster sits upon his high mountain
and the world worships him
growing in power and saying, "I am Christian"
all the while teaching the world to sin
and who on this earth is your faithful friend
may the word of the Lord haunt you
until the bitter end
Form:
Life as a Rat
Yes, every city is a labyrinthine cage
woven from streets seen from celestial heights,
but also – from the silken threads of your habits:
The paths you follow, or avoid,
the cafes where your presence lingers like ghosts,
the markets you cross
on your mythical journey home,
to work, to dance
under the spell of Friday night's embrace,
and the restaurants
where you might have savored delights,
if fate hadn't sealed their doors.
Oh, yes. A dozen winding roads
and fifteen hundred faceless extras
would be enough
to stage your entire
cursed life on a stage –
and yet you yearn
for a million souls
to feel painfully alone?
Ten thousand destinations
to pretend you're trapped?
Five hundred thousand
square kilometers to hide
in towers that kiss the sky,
far from the fortieth floor –
Ah, yes. A Universe,
to remind you: it exists,
just beyond the door.
And so, in the labyrinth of city lights,
where the moon whispers secrets
to cobblestone alleys,
you wander, a solitary specter,
through the mist of your own existence,
weaving dreams from the shadows
cast by neon ghosts and ancient bricks.
Each step, an unspoken symphony
of forgotten memories and future hopes,
a dance with the unseen,
a waltz with the infinite.
For in this mystical labyrinth,
where time is but a fleeting illusion,
and space is an endless canvas of possibilities,
you are both prisoner and poet,
caught in the web of your own creation,
yet always creating verses
from the stardust of your soul.
Oh, to be a rat in this cosmic playground,
to navigate the ethereal threads
of destiny and desire,
to find solace in the solitude
of a crowded universe,
and to discover, in the silence
between heartbeats,
the profound truth
that you are never truly alone.
Love between you both started as infatuation
Both of you knowing the other is the one
Marriage inevitable from friends’ observation
Months of tedious tasks and planning now over
Recited your vows, upon you a big celebration
A magical evening with those who are close
Counting every minute till alone, a romantic consummation
Rising up early feeling strangely at peace
It has to be due to the promise to be together for the duration
Time has passed now, talking of what is your future
Equally excited by ideas of starting a new generation
Having fun trying for what seemed like forever
Unsuccessful you see the doctor for both a complication
Sad and depressed with even some anger
Testing your marriage seems now it is a frustration
Looking deep in your heart when each is alone
Centered again new options you promise dedication
Putting away funds knowing these options are costly
Best chances will be adoption or artificial insemination
A family we so desire so much love to offer
On track with your goal for you there is admiration
Each day with the focus to put away something
Wanting for extras ignored is temptation
Health problems thought to explain your body changes
Not even a clue to your cycle of ovulation
Discouraged that menopause affects you so early
Researching everything available for your education
Waking up sick somehow this time is different
What the pregnancy test shows depends on the lines location
God has stepped in and created a miracle
For in your tummy grows your loving creation
It was told that things wouldn’t happen this way
Now others can look at you for inspiration
You have been blessed by God
Exceeding for you, your brightest expectation
Form:
Based on the Scripture, 2 Timothy 3:3-13, which gives
warning to escape the snare of the birdcatcher.
On stage he struts in sequined costume
a plume of feathers cocked high on head
A thespian of no account, though in loud rant
his troupe boasts of his skill and talent
But the look of a clown is on his sad face
when he's alone. It's heartache he embraces
for he's aware that he's been misleading
himself and bleeding hearts
the extras cast in his show
Bravo! Bravo!
He's paid the audience to shout
as they stand in ovation
whistling for more; an unearned encore
He promises, "I'll support you all one day."
Foolish would-bes, presume without a doubt
that he's a man of his word, but that's absurd
for actors such as he never share the limelight
once the spotlight has shown on their faces
What price for his moment of glory
The highest toll one can pay is the loss of his soul
Each bow he takes should give cause for worry
that one day the birdcatcher will collect his due
Barter he'll pay for being haughty and boastful
for being puffed up with pride, his words all lies
for acts of unkindness, for being out of control
the foolish one must relinquish his soul
From ones such as he, turn away, turn away
and come to an accurate knowledge of the truth
His folly should be distinguishable for all to see
that those who have an appearance of godliness
prove false in the obiesance of God's Holy Word
Wicked ones go from bad to worse
misleading as though under Satan's spell
from them you should quickly flee
and save yourself from His condemnation
like the rebellious angel who long ago fell
A Azure heavens charged with God’s delight
N nestle fine-spun ‘round the radiant sun.
A Adjuring men to look up outdoors -
D directing hungry eyes towards blue skies,
J just for a few moments every day.
U Utopian azure blues can defuse
R restless moods and cantankerous minds.
A Azure laced with white clouds, a pleasant sight
T to behold and laud the Lord’s glory.
I Insights adjure praise as you fix your gaze
O on the divine splendor of nature;
N now, let peace and tranquility increase.
an acrostic of alternating 9-10 syllable lines
with internal and end rhyme for the even lines.
December 15, 2021
CONTEST DETAILS:
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name ''A'' Forms, New Poems, 10 or more lines
A NEW, DATED poem choosing one of these FORMS: ABC, Abecedarian, Acrostic, Alexandrine, or Alliteration. THEMES to use - pick one only: 1. azure, 2. angel, 3. abyss (do not change tense). The "theme" should be used in the TITLE that is 1-6 words. LENGTH - Your poem must be 10+ lines (no funny poems please). Watch your RHYMING. Make it clear and easy to follow, perhaps even note it at the bottom of your poem. PRESENTATION is important so watch the white space on the bottom or the top of your poem (and I know this is an issue when using a cell to post poems so edit it out after posting on POETRY SOUP through Edit Poem) and if you cannot center a poem DON'T, just left align it. Put Contest details on the bottom of your poem, please EXTRAS: No collaboration poems, No poem that is in an ongoing contest, No poems from my previous contests. OPTIONAL: quotes (please ID), images, videos, or audios.
"THE DRUNKEN BEE DROWNS IN HONEY"
It was 5:37, the moment
I woke up.
the dead roses are pleasing
to the aesthetic senses
again.
my insanity is bandaged,
plastic surgery went well.
the darkness is comfort,
delusions of persecution
dance and my lungs become
reality.
the broken must earn their
way into depression.
as I earned mine,
time was a whore out of work.
she watched as I slit my
throat, she bathed in my
blood and cackled.
as I lost sleep, she slept
sound, as my paranoia ran
towards the madhouse, she
signed the papers in bloody
urine to have me committed.
through the slip into
darkness, the bee swam
through honey.
I shot holes in the butterfly
wings and cried.
I made love to the mirror
as I watched myself burn.
her consistency with no
thought is a shark mouth
approaching a hook.
it isn't the evil in a
woman's heartless and
soulless body but the extras
that fuel the evil itself.
the vanilla candle has no flame.
the house is heavy in
madness, a madness with
a love so dark, it's story
has no end.
magic persists without us,
no matter the effort to stop it.
hatred will fade,
the drunkenness of revenge
will sober and the free
parking on the Monopoly board
will cost you your integrity.
get slammed into a table
but fear the corner when you
fall.
you stole a month of my
insanity and made me sane.
as your monkeys eat your
fleas, as the bees drown,
as the pigs find another
route, as the story closes,
the unexpected gift forms.
it's time to pull the stinger
and watch you die.
all in good time,
all in my broken clock's
good time.
By: Chicano Eddie
8-10-2016
A farmer lives with fear in ways quite different from the rest,
It's not on markets, trends, or friends; it's God he puts to test,
It's not how much, how hard he works, his future's song is rain.
His planting time is crucial too, his calendar the stars,
And planets' tilts make seasons change, two extras found on Mars
Because it's orbit's more ellipse (though this brings Mars no gain.)
Earth's seasons breed diversity, as changes serve the few
Whose mutant offspring find a niche that often helps them hew
'Advantage' in God's master plan, their parents never cursed.
But evolution's there to see (let Faith no question bind!)
And 'fittest,' not just 'meek' survive, God's blessing, not unkind,
But serves all those who love His Word, advantage too well-versed!
It's what we eat that makes us grow (and what we don't, to thrive,)
And seed's reserved for next year's crops if we would stay alive,
The ten percent we give to God, that much or more we save.
A wise man learns to share with God, and face reality,
Earth's life a perfect fit to change (God's pleasure) don't you see?
Those struggling to save themselves? They're toasting their own grave!
God blesses all but blesses best the ones who serve His ends,
Mere 'faith' can open heaven's gates! Does goodness make amends?
Who loves himself must love the earth, is virtue 'pride' or 'girth?'
A paradox each soul must face, all life embrace His change,
True faith advances present hour and does not live downrange.
And 'mystery of mysteries,' we're saved by virgin birth!
Brian Johnston
22nd of June, 2018
It crept upon me,
From the age of eight,
Who knew the depths of hell,
That that first taste would lead?
The singing and jokes,
The dancing and shouts,
It all seemed grand to me.
It ate deep inside,
My nervous system,
Trapped by age twenty one,
The gates of hell opened,
For a ten year slog,
Jobs ended, friends left,
Caught in the jaws of death.
Guinness, Jack Daniels,
A Stella Artois,
Ten pints of Heineken,
Two bottles of strong gin,
Brandy, Vodka, wine,
Amazing amounts,
And then came the extras,
Speed, coke, weed, crack, meth
All leveled by booze,
I couldn't leave the house,
Without inebriation,
It soon gets lonely,
When you're a soaked souse,
Even dealers hate drunks.
Deep in the gutter,
Too bruised and battered,
The world keeps spiraling,
Choose terror or madness,
An endless nightmare’
Of fear and denial,
That severs brain from heart
To go into hell,
Is to find yourself,
Ironic: loss is gain,
Who knew that addiction,
Was a path to truth,
You stand face to face,
With the cruel facts of death.
I can’t believe I’m out,
that colossal maze,
Of grave embarrassment,
You must lose everything,
Not least dignity,
Alone, naked, raw,
Stood on a precipice.
Hard to make it out,
Make it out alive,
It’s hard to make it out,
Your face in the mirror,
Stripped bare and empty
It feels like the end,
But a crossroads appears.
Try until you die,
Fight against this curse,
It’s inherited,
And ingrained in culture,
Anyone can fall,
And it’s amazing,
You may seem to fall far,
But it’s never too late.
Form:
Our enemies the Philistines
As we were taught in Sunday school
Are extras in the battle lines
To die, as we were born to rule
What lovely racists we’ve become
Programmed to hate our nation’s foes
Eurasians and Mohammedans
Can meet the fate our masters chose
The monstrous industry of war
Directs the western heads of state
To where the high explosives roar
To maim, bereave, decapitate
The talking heads can flap their jowls
And fill the hours on CNN
Exhort us all with dead-face scowls
On our crusade to Bethlehem
Strausse’s secret spreads in whispers
Humans never can be equal
No ceasefires but Zuklon crystals
Let our engines be our sequel
We are the essential nation
Pure supremacy’s our totem
Sweet self-righteous affectation
Foreheads like a camel’s scrotum
White is right and might and height
In Europe’s garden of the gods
At Ragnarok we seize our right
To harvest souls and cocoa pods
Aircraft carriers parading
Empire power to all our foes
Who as humans masquerading
Are consumed in Gaza’s woes
Queen Victoria’s amusement
Black Mass Joe the Totenkopf
Spin a mythical illusion
Of the ruled and rulers of
From their minuscule mind-bubble
Black and whitest certainty
Suck and crush us into Anglo
Saxon singularity
The man’s too big, the man’s too strong
Till time sweeps all his works away
And light exposes right as wrong
And all his monuments decay
The peoples dance, the peoples sing
Unbroken continuity
Of common joy and suffering
The language of eternity
quatrains
My mom and dad loved one another
They said their “ I do’s” in ’37
then birthed two girls with their big brother
by their tenth Christmas in ’47.
Jovial times for the five of us
Three well-mannered kids, gifts from heaven
We had our holly Jolly Christmas
before Burl Ives in ’57.
Ten more years added two grandkids quick
when brother wed his sweetheart and friend.
Kids wait once more for Jolly St. Nick
Toys ‘neath the tree in ’67.
When next the decade finds me checking
I’m a wife, mother and aunt again.
This season three extras come decking
the Jolly halls in ’77.
We add a son. My oldest niece weds.
Her brother weds too, a Korean.
Fourth generation – two “great” girl kids
make Christmas rock in ’87.
Death takes its toll, both parents succumb.
Divorce claims two, four go to heaven.
New mates are found and babies still come
Four 'Jollys' had left us by 97.
No more gatherings of Jolly’s in sync
Nuptials and newborns increase our kin.
Breakups/adoptions buckle the links
that knot our gang, Christmas ’07
Moving ahead - ten more years outlined
Lots of fresh faces, some never seen
Thank God, for Facebook, pictures I find
Young Jolly green giants in ‘17.
Six more years pass changing the Jolly Tree
We see adoptions, babies, new mate, death.
Count: forty-six folks in year ’23.
In six generations, only two 'Jollys' left.
*My maiden name is Jolly which adds a lot of fun and joking especially at Christmas time.