Long Favorite Poems
Long Favorite Poems. Below are the most popular long Favorite by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Favorite poems by poem length and keyword.
popping up hither and you
in a meadow of clover
lavender, white, purple with a tinge of pink
violets, dancing toward the mushrooms
at the bottom of my oak trees
rose turns her peach face toward the sun
bumble noises fly in, she is their favorite
marigold shakes her ruffles with laughter
carefree and whimsical, jealous of no one
burgundy peony opens her doors to black ants
flocks along a wall of rocks, resting leisurely
showing off their florets without shame
difficult to say which one is my favorite
no one can out do lilac’s fragrance
Choosing one above others is inconceivable
Delicious green and red apples,
Grow in the farm by hard working people.
Carefully transported to the fruit stores,
Displayed for the shoppers to adore.
Then they were in my possession,
Planned to give them to a dear friend,
Who used to love and enjoy them,
But all of a sudden, the fruits and me,
We, to the recipient, became aliens and enemies,
And hence we both were rejected as his favorites,
Somehow just because we related to the dirty system,
by the definition from this person.
I would rather let the fruits rot and become fertilizers,
Than let him be the fruits' consumer.
Who knew how to use negative and aggressive language,
Unkind and hurtful words towards others.
He must have sold or lost his soul to the evils,
In the Lunar Calendar month of the ghosts and devils.
A spirit month was the traditional name by Asian.
It lasted 28 days, but ended my friendship forever,
After knowing him for six months, six days and six hours.
I thought he could be my friend forever.
By the Way was his private surname,
66 was his nickname and
6 was his favorite number game.
No one knows the joy you bring
They wish you weren’t around
The neighbor’s cat was just a “thing”
That moved and made a sound
It’s clear to see, you meant no harm
You thought it liked to play
To suggest, your transfer, to a farm
Well that was harsh to say
And, sure, you like to ride along
No matter where I go
Others seem to think I’m wrong
But, what do others know
I always say, “Haters, hate”
And you should just do you
It clearly was that bunny’s fate
To be your rabbit stew
As for daddy’s dinner plate
He left it unattended
You left the peas, but ate the steak
He ought not be offended
Now, had you ate, the peas instead
He’d have a valid fight
But you helped inflate his manly head
You felt, he grilled, just right
I feel that some just won’t agree
No matter, your perfection
Crying blind, but surly see
Yours and my affection
Jealousy’s a deadly sin
But seems to be the cause
For the ruckus over man’s best friend
Who’s known round town, as “Jaws”.
Rhyme about your favorite pet contest
About my dog, River
10/4/19
In St. Pete
Where there is heat
They will compete
In a game that may not be so sweet
You see there are these knights
Who must fend off the herd and all their fights,
With a forecast for rain many may want to complain
About this holiday week event that has a Pirate name
Since the score has a spread of double digits
It maybe as exciting as shopping for stocking stuffer widgets.
Hope the fan will understand for the player this is their final exam
Offense, defense they will all play their part with the hopes of getting a professional football start.
Do not complain in the rain since the players may be in search of fortune and fame
Instead stoke the fire and remember how you were noticed to get your first job hire
For that position that turned into a lifelong mission.
That is what these bowl games are all about
For a collegian athlete to get their name out
If the underdog makes the spread
An ego may get fed,
But if it gets out of hand
Then the favorite will pass this athletic stand
Showing their skills that may get that Sunday check to pay the bills.
If you end up drenched and wet
Do not forget
This little poem and its message’s tone
You see Over on the ship the ghost of Gasperella will sit
Watching the football play out its sporting script
Wondering if the Herd will outsmart the knights
By keeping a winning score in their sights
But for Marshall the call may be to get a job down at the discount clothing store at the mall.
It could be UCF who could come up big
And take home the success of this matinee gig
For what it is worth
It could be competitive in the fourth
And if it is not
Then enjoy the romantic logs which should be burning hot.
It is the holiday season which gives us a reason
To say good luck to all
And we will see both teams back in the fall.
Pale white against the ghostly fog
Smoke curled for lack of oxygen
Black rim glasses hide, head bows
Conceal eyes of cool cat daddy-o
In dark, goatee, groomed and moody
Beret tilted silhouetted, covers identity
Captures blues wrapped in a sax
Brown paper bags cover booze
Jazz releases notes unknown to claps
Fingers snap approval to the poets silence
Something to be trusted no matter what
Underworld shadows gather dust
A secret spot built on a fog bank conjured up
On a dingy dream found five steps down
A hideaway ten degrees below zero and counting
Leading beyond all cafe dive boundaries
Cold nights survive on hanging tunes
College degrees wall to wall leave hollow marks
Jive time turkeys hold on to hot tea instead
Twilight characters friendly as death reset
Step down in reality to displease history
Bass man puffs his last cigarette
Joint smokers fill up the cavern
Underworld types gather with germs abounding
Fallen ash in trays lose attention
Coffee stains on tables remain
Stale as bread half consumed
Down and dirty with the blues
Tinted in a melancholy stench
Night life rises numb, basement ready
Dim lights permeate the senses
Lays waste to the alley cat man
Smoke rises in a trance to swoon
Turtle necks hold stiff men intact
A band doing hourly sessions Jam
Bass players hammer out shadows
Discord is all that matters
To mimic politics, smoke marijuana
The attraction of the day is on the menu
Curse words say it all
Snap and double snap poetry incognito
Verses flow like painted butter on walls
On melted atomic babies breath powdered bottom
For war, use the toilets next door on the right
Bullets are the flavor of the day
The favorite flavor after blanks
Matchstick men in bazooka suits flirt
The moon turns supersonic jello cool
Cool cats know squares from pigs
Cubes are abstractions of night sticks
Never mix with visions of gas lamps
It is a gas man, can you dig it
Elephant dancers run wild man
Suspicious of pigs who shoot first
Ask questions about bacon later
Snap daddy snap on beatnik back
oh, crumb beneath my keyboard key
your like bread but not like tea
I saw you once last Friday night
you glowed like beige electric light
your crusty soul is effervescent
like soup that joined a family crescent
your melancholy little face
has linty dreams of outer space
I poked you with my favorite pen
you ran away like 7 men
you scooted left, you scooted right
then shouted nothing in the night
my heart became a velvet spoon
it sang at noon beneath the moon
your fragrant silence hurt my toe
although my toe was down below
o crumb. my crumb my desks delight
you haunt my snacks with snacky might
a sandwich died to let you be
now you live rent free under E
the laptop fan began to roar
it blew you toward my bedroom door
you rolled beside a dusty sock
then married it beside a clock
the clock said tick, the sock said blue
the crumb said " I am missing you"
I cried one tear in my exam
then wrote your name upon a yam
so, sleep dear crumb in dusty doom
beside the dust bunny in my room
the world may laugh, the chairs may fight
but you dear crumb, you take flight
Childhood memories are fun to remember
Especially the days before from May to September.
Crrraaaaccck what was that?
Oh the sound of a base ball bat.
There in the park is the little league.
Summer heat has yet to fatigue.
Oh there is my lovely and favorite tree
The one whose bark skinned my knee
But it did have its upside
As it was my place to hide.
Oh my it is Sunday morning
Time to head for our Weekly warning.
Damnation , fire and Hell
Await me, oh well.
I remember the creek
Oh to jump in and shriek
At the top of our lungs
Praying we did not bite our tongues.
Being outside at first morning light
Not going back in til it was night
Chasing all those butter flies
Oh those were the days that have gone by.
Those were the days of summer fun
Too bad I did not know life had just begun.
Any Scent Will Do
My love of fragrances started because...
The eldest sister had fallen in love
Was so romantic for the rest of us
Five daughters in all, you can guess the score
The other four were completely in awe.
It was the first Christmas after they'd met
And it was one I will never forget
Us girls gathered in our sister's bedroom
She opened her presents, all were perfume.
Not expensive scent, for times then were tough
But to me it sure had the magic touch
Ever since that mystical Christmas Day
I've loved perfume, that'll never fade away.
Eager to sample perfume that’s brand-new
Rose, Jasmine, Sweet Pea, any scent will do.
15th March 2021
Favorite Scent(s) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
**
~ My favorite Thanksgiving memory was, quite simply, a walk at my grandparents house - I'll never forget how nature spoke to me that day about what is truly important, what I'm most thankful for. ~
The snowflakes cling so softly to my eyes
Each one a sparkling gem of frosted lace
Their fluttered flights like silver butterflies
Released by heaven in uncommon grace
To melt upon my lashes, warm, and trace
Their damp demise as rills upon my face
I wind my way thru swaying evergreen
That dip their limbs to bow a silent plea
Like Currier and Ives, they paint a scene
Of lofty grand cathedrals, soaring free
A vault of stars to crown each regal tree
While high above an owl questions me
I wonder if, like me, he haunts the night
Divining purpose deep within the wood
So grateful for the gifts within his sight
And all that heaven brings us that is good
In that, we forge a blessed brotherhood
Content to cherish living, as we should
Thanksgiving weaves the frigid winds at hand
To bring us both this winter wonderland.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Thanksgiving Memory" Poetry Contest, Regina Riddle, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Winter Wonderland" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Judge & Sponsor.
~ This is an "Urban Sonnet", a form created by Laura Loo, a poet here at Poetry Soup. ~
Jumping might be my favorite word
or frolicking, prancing, dancing
anyway, it’s something with an ing ending
I can assure you of that
I get sick of throwing down the same words
feeling redundant and trite once again
I have no idea how to freshen my mind up
to spin things around to other words
what about words with d endings?
placid; lucid, horrid, morbid.
I see why these won’t work.
Still I try to jump off my dendrite track.
to get away from my blaring mediocrity.
To no avail, for every blank sheet of paper
is yelling for me to throw down jumping or dancing
and so I do, and so I do.