Long Familiarity Poems
Long Familiarity Poems. Below are the most popular long Familiarity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Familiarity poems by poem length and keyword.
A Poetic Pinnacle
By Franklin Price12/10/2016
A poetic pinnacle I'm trying to attain
The thought of it is daunting as it's running through my brain
There is no heavy lifting, where I would need a crane
I meet it with some humor and never with disdain
I hope I am successful that it will entertain
Familiarity with many words I will attempt to feign
I try it mainly for myself, want nothing else to gain
Want new underwear for Christmas, I hope that they are Hanes
Further alphabet progression in this poem I will ingrain
More difficult than first grade and reading Dick and Jane
“K” prevents inclusion, by the wayside it is lain
I must leave it lying there my progress to maintain
“N” words now evade me and “O” is just a pain
This poem is a monorhyme and not a short quatrain
Of the letters in the alphabet, only eight remain
Hope that I can make it while still remaining sane
If you see me spouting gibberish put me on the crazy train
That travels to a plane that will fly me to Ukraine
Before I arrive I'll comb my hair I'm just a little vain
The excitement now of writing this, beginning now to wane
“X” and “Y” makes me so hungry, I think I'll eat some Zatarain
As you see there were five letters that left me in the rain
If you think of real words, let me know, if not, you must refrain
She throws hateful words at me
And I echo more hate right back
After twenty years of matrimony
We have perfected our lame attacks
Familiarity, contempt does breed
As the long-time married surely knows
But in love, just like where soldiers bleed,
All is fair and anything goes
She knows all my insecurities
And knows just where it hurts
Our love is stained with impurities
As we eat our just desserts
Underneath our outer jealousies
The lava of love still gently flows
But on the battlefield of our miseries
All is fair and anything goes
Silence is an unspoken truce
As we attempt to mend the wound
Around our necks hangs the wedding noose
Neither surrendering too soon
The peace table is a soft mattress
Where tenderly we land the blows
Being guilty, we don’t dare confess –
All is fair and anything goes
NOTE: This was written for Chris Aechtner's "Anything Goes" contest. Although I realize, "Anything Goes" was not the intended theme and that Christopher was simply opening his contest to any and all kinds of poetry, I thought it would be fun to use that as the theme of my poem.
I sit quietly watching
As he moves from truck to doorway
My thoughts are filled with anticipation
Will he be a nice person?
Will he be arrogant?
Will he be friendly?
My mind continues to reason
As he walks into the room and turns
Toward me and his last date
Who is a friend of mine
A woman like me only prettier
In my estimation of her
Introduced, finally
He smiles welcomingly
I smile and say hello
We sit beside each other
Listening, whispering, beginning
To know one another
The night passes from dusk
Into dark, starlit spring evening
And we grow into friends
Closely resembling intimacy
Two on the verge of familiarity
My heart beats anxiously
As the night draws to a close
My phone number in his hand
Will we meet again?
Like tipper tapping tiny feet toddling
I watched your mirriard of droplets
stream down my car window
Night sky like the backdrop of a show
and the lightning strikes adding to the mood of the performance
where ordinarily it might highlight or cast creepy shadows
Several crashes of thunder the only sound affects
breaking the deathly silence you could have sliced through
Stormy air and the countless hairs
of the body anticipating action
was the change in atmosphere of any such production
Yet for all the familiarity of yet another down turned weather front
something was amiss
I sat there trying to will my merry-go-round world to stop
to let me off and set me free once more
that I might strike out loose and run wild once more
like a horse loose of the reigns widly galloping away
alas I couldn’t budge
just sat their frozen to my seat
despite needing my home comforts around this hour
Knocking every ounce of confidence from me
breaking me to a point
where my tears were but one with the evenings downpour
No chocolate or ice-cream treats for pick-me-ups
nor interval for refreshment here
which would have been at least a little concillation
No, right now the world stood still
as our relationship played over from start
until someone knocked on the glass
concerned as to whether or not I was alright
Black and boggle eyed from wet mascara and numerous tears
like something out of a horror film
I turned to see who dare break this spell
Nodding to say I was fine
but not stupid they could see far from it
They pulled me out into secure arms
You could have been anyone
but you were gentle and understanding
A raging fire warmed by chilled bones
with simple hot sweet tea and the warmth of a blanket
your eyes soaked me in drawing out my story
you listened intently
I poured out my soul
You drank me in
Bringing me out of myself
you turnd so much sadness to humor
putting another chapter of life to bed
opening another as day broke through
I am now thankful for what passed
for without that part of life
we might never be making our own sweet music
creating future ambition and drive
Nesting and nestling as one together
Souls on one ship we sail new seas
Dedicated to Jan Allison
A REAL STINKER
Medically speaking, all humans have movement of their sphincter.
Eruptions of sphincters can cause disturbances of epic proportions.
Your fresh squeeze, young and delightful, may utter a proof that
sensory brains indeed moved to a higher atmosphere from the rear.
The scented sphincter will not easily dissipate, can’t wait just a sec -
the sulfuric scent can linger longer unchecked. Clear the room
for if you enter in too quick, a sign should really appear, quite like
the caution of the Parisian catacombs, the stench of dry bones
quaking under the sphincter’s attack - a real stinker in fact.
His date was afright as he grew green, sped to his brother’s house,
familiarity threw open the door then onto the bathroom lickety-split.
That roaring relief catapulted to new heights,
as a little boy’s voice leaps from the tub, “Uncle Dan!”
(Name has been changed but the laugh is reel
as the paper unwinds over or under -
no one cares when there is a great deal of thunder)
Disagreeable relations lean in
to hear the tale again and again,
until one has to go…real bad
12/3/2021
The world today
Every thing at our fingertips
A meme factory
Consuming everything
And feeding everyone
A rapid endless stream
Satisfies the insatiable
For the briefest instant
But robs us all
Of lifetimes
Of discovery
And so we are initiated
Taken out of our mind
Into another
Stages of the path
Snakes and ladders
Life hacks
And buried treasure
Whatever it is that holds
Generates
And shares the meme
The light within
A hall of mirrors
Knows no bounds
And needs no introduction
And still the child discovers
Their way
Turning fear into familiarity
Confusion to wisdom
And the simple joy of following
A path
Older than time
(9/8/24)
Down a strange road, they are guided by an unknown force.
These misplaced souls are all journeying on the same course.
All of them have undergone intolerable strife.
To them, this trail started at the end of human life.
There are countless numbers of men wearing blue and gray.
They have been walking down this road during night and day.
During this Civil War, each one is a casualty.
They move, although none of them has any eyes to see.
They were killed at Gettysburg, Shiloh, Chickamauga,
Antietam, Bull Run, Atlanta, and Spotsylvania.
The final one at the rear is a tall, bearded man.
He is following the others closely as he can.
This man possess some stark familiarity,
He is Abraham Lincoln, the last fatality.
Based on an episode of the TV show "The Twilight Zone"
Narratives or at least that's what I call them
Without doubt win hands down every time
I've deviated with limericks and couplets and stuff
But I'm back to the old poems that rhyme
Very similar to when we go away on vacation
It feels so good to finally get back home
Everytime we deviat from our regular patterns
Though we enjoy it a bunch when we roam
Guess it's familiarity that we're always craving
Friendly faces of the people we know
No hidden agendas, no scams to contend with
Just the same old routine, same old show
Comfortable is a very good word to describe it
That down home feeling when with friends
Like always being in style with jeans and Adidas
Instead of trying to keep up with the trends
Give me that plain old simple way of living
It surely wins hands down ever time
That's how I roll, I'm just a simple old hayseed
Sitting around chewing the fat is just fine
Narratives or at least that's what I call them
Without doubt win hands down every time
I've deviated with limericks and couplets and stuff
But I'm back to the old poems that rhyme
Very similar to when we go away on vacation
It feels so good to finally get back home
Everytime we deviat from our regular patterns
Though we enjoy it a bunch when we roam
Guess it's familiarity that we're always craving
Friendly faces of the people we know
No hidden agendas, no scams to contend with
Just the same old routine, same old show
Comfortable is a very good word to describe it
That down home feeling when with friends
Like always being in style with jeans and Adidas
Instead of trying to keep up with the trends
Give me that plain old simple way of living
It surely wins hands down ever time
That's how I roll, I'm just a simple old hayseed
Sitting around chewing the fat is just fine
The silent wind... a mere chill
The leaves were swaying back and forth
The inactive time is simply unreal
Yet mysteries abound be intimate to solve
The blackness promises to be blind
A darkness where lights were a fade
A glimmer perhaps if hope shall find
Yet too early may in turn be too late
So much like a dream
A familiarity needless to convey
The vanishing ghost shall mean
Yet wandering invisibly to never show the way
Wondering once too often
Illusions appear and disappear altogether
Speed were dissolving moments
As will sound be resounding forever
Once more, once again, once remain
The sway of the night shadowing the light
Mysteries unbound yet became
That of time where the ghost in us hide