Long Fest Poems
Long Fest Poems. Below are the most popular long Fest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fest poems by poem length and keyword.
Herr Heinrich Schneider and his spouse
Felt the need to wander,
And for once to leave their house
For a land that lay far yonder.
Japan at cherry-blossom time!
No better place than this
Enthralled the German couple’s mind.
The chance they would not miss.
"But what of Spezi", Heidi cried,
"We can’t leave him behind."
"Ach! unser Spezi," Heinrich sighed.
"There’s a way we’ll find."
They gave him anti-rabies shots
And medicines galore.
All that red tape, and lots and lots
Of paper-mountains more.
Off to the orient they flew
With hopeful joy and glee.
Oh what wonders bright and new
Would soon enthral all three?
Imperial palaces they saw
And Fuji’s snow-capped summit,
Ornate gardens stirring awe.
You name it, they had done it.
Immersed in culture and in art
They sensed a certain lack.
And so it was that they took heart
To leave the beaten track.
They hired a car and off they went
To some far-distant by-way.
And many a pleasant hour they spent
Till the dying light of day.
They found a cosy place to rest.
On the price they made a deal.
At last a chance to have a "Fest".
The time came for a meal.
The menu was in Japanese,
As well one might expect.
The waiter clearly meant to please
And bowed with great respect.
Of English, German and of French
He had no scrap of knowledge.
He gave each ear a nervous clench.
No, he’d never been to college.
Herr Schneider felt like sauerkraut
And Heidi felt like veal,
Food of this kind they’d do without
Until another meal.
But Spezi’s hunger would not wait.
Herr Schneider eyed the waiter.
"Wuff, Wuff, our Spezi wants a plate.
For dogs one has to cater."
While they sat there, a full hour passed.
Then the waiter brought some dishes.
The Schneiders ate their strange repast,
Which fell short of their wishes.
It was now time to pay the bill,
Which ran to many a yen.
Both were feeling somewhat ill.
and hardly spoke a word, but then -
Heidi cried "Is Spezi back yet?"
"Wuff wuff" did Heinrich bark.
"Please, waiter, tell us, where’s our pet?
In the kitchen? In the park?
A piece of fur the waiter brought.
Then Heidi’s face went pale.
She had a grim and horrid thought
On seeing Spezi’s tail.
What is the moral of this tale?
Down under be a dingo.
Where e’er you roam you should not fail
To understand the lingo.
Cut to the chase after tan hat man!
Though reading horror stories
gearing up as strawberry spring fest
full throttle danse (macabre),
an only every now and again predilection
genre crazy wave
washing over me like
a killer tsunami,
harboring pier rill less night surf
(subsequently fueling figurative
hair razing close shave
critical desperation) to save
thine scrawny ****,
(a derriere laughing stock,
and hence cheeky of me to rave),
what you put
in a Margarita,
those rare occasions satiated, when
hung over insomnia heavily bulging,
rheumy myopic blood shot eyes
nonetheless lock into
vital opening sentence determining,
whether adroit kingly author
nimbly setting the stage and pave
ving what thenceforth, pro
misses tubby a cell out ace
in the hole captive audience
skeleton crew exhuming a grave
grim reaper they crave
(me, this apt pupil), doth brace
himself by all counts once
a bad little kid deserving, well...now...
just a bag of bones,
who fiendishly cackles
analogous to screeching
linkedin deafening banshee
when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like),
whereat after opening sentence,
an instantaneous big bang
possessive gnarly hand
forcibly grabs my attention
presaging and frightening
yours truly (juiced in case
ye did not know),
where within the bazaar
of bad dreams epic,
which seems like forever,
when I finally erase
and exorcise the bogeyman who,
regally, masterfully, immediately,
dramatically got woven
lady chattery teeth and all
withering wicked warp and woof
establishing (proof positive),
an excellently crafted
Chiral Mad heavily shades
of night are falling
gussying haunting place,
where the color of evil permeates
every cerebral space
with darkness, said
sub rosa prime evil punctuates
the mind of this dream catcher,
whence after four past midnight
the reaper's image appears
sending adrenaline rush,
surreal augmented moving pictures,
viz flight or fight
courtesy third eye blind
did, when firestarter alarm didst grind
passage of time manifesting dark forces
blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined
up battleground formation
from the borderlands of my mind
this even before turning
the first page where the eyes
of drag'n my afterlife
glowed with radiant shining
where suspense didst wind.
Alright have to admit that whole drole Bazball or Baz Bat cool cat vibe…rabbit out of hat tribe.. is taking its toll..sunk in a hole..losing it’s goal and soul..not being a vitriol troll..maybe need to mull over a cull of this rigmarole..
Can’t pretend..is the end of this spangly jangly new fangled trend…nothing off the shelf…just express yourself…won’t spank you..will almost thank you.. if you tank…bonkers fools rules you can’t bend…must always go stonkers.. all cool no old school…when you shan't defend and depend on a blend of soft conkers and tracks to conquer..
Let’s explain there are many ways to play and entertain…the lotto of the Baz grotto..no dull lulls …no more bore score draws…one motto…just high octane insane where seemingly the sole means to control is a flat track that blunts and shunts how every attack does bowl..
I know..have already banged on..had a go at the pitches…feather beds so flat you can bat gung ho heave ho from the get go.. no wear and tear..glitches or hitches.. despair to stop the flair.. no real movement in the air or off the square..the Bazball pest…Bazbat conquest..effectively saying no we won’t be surfing the crest of a true test contest of willow and leather..hey ho nonny no…to the real deal Test fest..tally ho..
No pretension..apprehension of the lacking dimensions and few mentions of the best Test tensions..
Also must rebuke how they have turned the duke ball from a serious nuke which would spook.. enthrall..now reliant on a cherry that gets so soft you need a fluke ..well Dukes will be compliant as England’s their biggest client…we saw our copper haired laird no longer..stronger defiant..again came a cropper..and this was hardly a proper whopper green topper..
It seems kitsch Bazball rule needily greedily avoids any glitches or hitches in batter’s riches which in turn.. does spurn and bewitches merchants of seams and stitches..
Well it can be dicey to make your tracks at home too spicy..get in a lather…at the palaver as runs become rather pricey..when you could goad..milk that ilk as you explode on a silk road..
Our selector trifecta…the three wise men..Baz..Bob and Ben.. know if there is no speedster thuggery… no Geoffrey jaffas…bunsen spin skulduggery..they will be the gaffers with some Bazball muggery..
his last gasp was quite lengthy
trying to go out with a bang as usual
a rationalist manifesto covering his face
accompanied by a cotton field work song
his grip went slack under the torrent of images
fortunes have been lost in that snapshot parlor
shook the money from the pockets
of many a surviving Siamese twin
blessed with a rugged set of mouse buttons
he pitched head first into the theocratic miasma
since a rescue by wisdom eluded his pilgrimage
and its inner parade of flailing penitents
he died to a real slow slide whistle tango
from a regrettable strangulation of debate
and terminally transparent eyelids
at least the bastards left me to my fate he mused
just as a legion of parachutists
crashed and tumbled through the roof
it was an Exist-o-Gram from my dear mother
but first a word from our sponsor
Hi there Mel Linger owner of Mel's Futon Corral
so jump in the calaboose and come on down
for a steal of a deal and a big gold tooth smile
clear and sunny in the lowland swamps
now for some traffic from overhead
fully awake after the reservoirs of hell broke loose
his mathematician’s mind calculated
how long until earthly paradise
it was a delusion but a lot of them work
time to risk the entire skin layer he fielded
searching for the trail to civilization
he shinnied up his collective unconscious
an optico semiotician on a paranormal safari
and began to read mom's holy missive
son, your persistent mania for self dialog
requiring a frequent bath in statistics and terror
has left you under the juggernaut's wheels
for some fashionable occult mystery
humor him it's a mud fest in there
relaxed again and ready for
the ever enchanting silhouette of flames
he spread his wings and noticed
there were no wings too late
his nipples were erect with drama
moms lips floated above and spoke
the extraterrestrial rushed up at him
the Cherubs chirped and twittered
as he rowed over the spillway of oblivion
and stood before the ancient ones
boy were they ancient decrepit even
connected to bubbling jars by their sex organs
apparently this made them really smart
the one labeled mom bubbled and spoke
lose the kilt festooned with skulls son
later that day a marsh fire swept through heaven
and a humming bird took nectar from his ear
I know you know what happened the year we graduated. Just like everything else, it trickled down the grape vine. We were seniors when SHE said she wanted a blue dress for prom. SHE wanted to teach disabled children, an aspiration that came from her love for a baby cousin who had cerebral palsy. SHE and I had art class together our seats adjacent to each other. Her poorly done imitation of a Frida Khalo masterpiece was praised for the effort behind it. That morning I was on my way to school, I had seen a picture of her on facebook from the night before. SHE had attended fright fest, and looked like she had an incredible time. I was on the bus during my morning commute when I saw her on again off again boyfriend. He and I were practically strangers, but I could see he was having a rough day. He had bags under his eyes, ‘probably one of those off times’, I thought. During my first period class SHE hadn't come in yet, probably getting breakfast. My principal called a senior meeting on the loud speakers, the girl next to me rolled her eyes while applying a third layer of lip gloss and mentioned something about senior dues. I sighed as I stood up, as if the world were on my shoulders. I made my way to the auditorium, losing my cohort on the way down. I slouched in the back of the auditorium with my baggy hoodie pulled up to hide my face,I felt myself nodding off. I was always sleepy, and tired of something. “Alyssa committed suicide over the weekend.” I felt a shock come over me, my tears fell as sobs racked my body and the loudest silence overtook my mind. SHE had committed suicide. SHE who had wanted a blue dress, SHE who had gone to fright fest the night before in a green hoodie and posted a smiling photo on facebook.SHE was graduating in less than 7 months and had only lived sixteen years. SHE had easily become a WAS. SHE was the wails that bounced on the walls of the pink girl's bathroom months after it happened, SHE was the boy screaming in the hallway during my math class for her to come back. Eventually SHE was just an auditorium in silence while her parents walked across the stage for her, and the graduating class drowned in their tears. SHE was just a folded cap and gown and a middle school photo in a high school yearbook.
Frankly Speaking
There is a couple on the beach, they have a small room, been on the beach for years, suffered through the worst of it. They have been through every phase. The Hippie, the war protesters -the poet-the artist - the "free love fest"- the heavy duty weed scene, "hell no we won't fn go" from there; To the board room with a haircut and a suit. Back to the beach, to retire; She still wore pigtails and flowered skirts. Oh, my God, we’ve moved slower through time she thought, and those times now seemed so far away. Contrasting times were here with cocaine, ecstasy, and mushrooms.!
S.S. check gone too soon, these days were not like the old days but vegetarians never die- So we dance at night after soaking up the sun; Growing wrinkled and red and filled with vitamin D... He displays his art- we played on our boombox: Bob Marley and Elton John which drew a crowd. We became as one with South Beach, as we practiced our Yoga, or played our musical instruments and chanted “Nam-myoho-renge-kyo”.
My black friend was so beautiful in her bikini and golden headwrap...She roller-skated past and waved. She was a poet like me... She said she'd be back for the session. A lot of her poems were about David the owner of the Franklin Hotel where we lived. I and other poets wrote poems about the system that tried to impose hate upon us free thinking peoples. People would give us money for sharing our poems, and purchase his art work. We’d buy few mangos and veggie burgers for our dinner, next, we’d wait for the sun to go down.
At night, my Black friend. Oladeji would collect the last 5 bucks, for the Gourmet Franks that she sold to the hungry drunks left over on the beach, who had been evacuated from the clubs for maxed out credit cards. Sad looks and broke pockets were not welcomed.
Which made her hot, fat kosher gourmet grilled franks, smothered in her special onion sauce, even more of a redeeming quality; As her poetic sign read… {FRANKLY SPEAKING…Home of the gourmet franks} ... Oladeji, would chant out her newly learned Spanish words nightly, to the dregs of dejected party goers, she’d shout “Pero caliente, saboya salsa” Rico delicioso”! then again in English; Hot-dogs with onion sauce very delicious.
Journey Journal Page
CHRISTMAS ALLELUIA
By Leon Enriquez
Hope blooms good living
This is the season
Love is our reason
For peace and goodwill
Share the love we feel
Joy in our giving
So right Here and Now
True peace on earth grounds
Where the lost is found
As faith and hope bloom
When our hearts make room
For love to endow
~~~~~~~~~
God blesses our sight
In our space and time
Hear the happy chimes
The wise men of old
The Christ child foretold
The way, truth and light
In our brief life lease
Draw near and see proof
Mystery in truth
Emmanuel right here
Our cause for good cheer
May The Christ bring peace
~~~~~~~~~
Christ’s sojourn on earth
As stars shine most bright
On this holy night
The Word comes to call
Humbly to us all
With tidings of mirth
Christ the Son of Man
What a lovely gift
As grace and light lift
Our dreary days here
To absolve all fear
Make souls understand
~~~~~~~~~
Mystic light we seek
So we look to grace
To help us to trace
To mend broken hearts
To dare to thus start
Our quest for love’s peak
Feel the jolly mood
Glad tidings to all
As Christmas light calls
With message most kind
Peace to all mankind
Each soul can live good
~~~~~~~~~
Christ brings healing touch
Gather with good cheer
With a heart sincere
True love funds your quest
Live the Christmas fest
Spread love more as such
Our fond hearts sing psalms
Once again we hear
Tidings of good cheer
Jingle bells ringing
Sweet Carols singing
Jesus Christ is come
~~~~~~~~~
Love the Lord God then
With all your heart, soul
Body-mind one whole
Then love other men
As you love God, friend
To show you understand
Live fond peace of mind
In your Christmas cheer
Compassion holds dear
Do unto others
Love one another
Be mindful and kind
~~~~~~~~~
Blessings to all men
Glory be to God
Father-Mother Lord
Source of mystery
Who calls us to be
Listen as we can
May light show the way
May peace bring us hope
Love and grace now scope
May faith and truth show
Joy we come to know
To live well each day
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
25 December 2024
Singapore
Journey Journal Page
CODE MY ODE
By Leon Enriquez
I pen my writes
With mystic ink
As words I cite
Seed what I think
I craft my lines
With simple rhymes
As I feed fine
Crisp rustic chimes
~~~~~~~~~
The words ooze fast
In sensuous feel
Now first to last
In cast that spills
Prize thoughts that float
Across my mind
As if to bloat
Deep profound finds
~~~~~~~~~
The way of ease
In glimpse of lot
Moves joy and lease
In verse I slot
An ode of verse
With profound play
As I observe
The Milky Way
~~~~~~~~~
Clouds drift and dot
Upon dream stay
Where fate grooms lot
On this my way
In steep deep trip
Ink stains cursive
Move fingers’ grip
Wit verse that live
~~~~~~~~~
The writer’s craft
Starts with a thought
In tensile draft
As rhymes allot
I rise and shine
With happy grudge
To stay what’s mine
With words that nudge
~~~~~~~~~
Words have a way
To state my case
Etch truth that stays
Upon rhyme base
Forge hue and tint
That colours shade
Word art blooms mint
As rhymes now trade
~~~~~~~~~
The winding road
Where life goes by
Bears fate that loads
My weary sighs
Cheer and gloom set
My lovely fest
Where gambling bets
Attune with quest
~~~~~~~~~
Words juggle well
With poesy here
In a strange tell
To cluster near
Words in a gush
Stream on full scale
As muse must rush
Fine course of gale
~~~~~~~~~
So here’s my ode
As rhymes now show
Risk sanguine code
As mode thus grows
Music grooms lines
In show-and-tell
Where words incline
True yarn that dwells
~~~~~~~~~
In gall or brine
Feel the outburst
Rhymes attend lines
In soul’s own thirst
Words on a page
Convey and hint
Upon the stage
Of feel that mints
~~~~~~~~~
Feel sad or mad
Upon these shores
Feel good or bad
Or odd once more
Words paint a sketch
Of feel and think
As if to match
Strange fate that links
~~~~~~~~~
Here for a while
My moments cull
A certain style
In touch not dull
Ode in pure mode
Now captures time
To craft deep code
In poignant chimes
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
07 January 2024
Singapore
Tuesday by the bay,
Garden tour dazzles;
Wonder now portrays,
Profound joy dangles.
Our first visit here
As monsoon rain wets;
Yet we feel good cheer
Greeting our mindset.
Stroll these spacious grounds,
Eco-friendly space;
Feel earthy surrounds
In timely embrace.
Take the audio trip
As the tram ride springs;
Glimpse a new-found grip
As a message flings.
There is a pulse here
In the atmosphere;
Vibrant garden steers
An amazing sphere.
My love and I feel
The swirl of fond fest:
A vital zest heals
Trials in journey quest.
This green agenda
Tells of plant foliage;
Flora and fauna
In sculptured passage.
A garden city
Comes alive right here:
Elegant beauty,
Poise and prize appears.
There is a deep soul
That waits for each man
To feel once more whole
As eyes search and scan.
Curious eyes caress
Walkway paths and trees;
Slow time can address,
Inner child set free.
The magic of awe
When wonder fills mood;
Watch nature now thaw
A grandeur that's good.
Round and round we go,
Mix and mingle sights;
Loiter with calm flow,
Reach a core delight.
Time once upon yore,
Babylon in myth:
Hanging gardens bore
That fabled fond wreath.
Now within our glimpse,
A touch most telling:
Gardens once a dream,
A sanctuary springs.
True worth speaks tons here,
A tribute to zest;
Earthly presence cheers
The radiance of quest.
Our sojourn tells more
In visual impact;
Primal pulse galore,
Indulge wit and tact.
A certain charm calms,
Mind and heart feel glow;
A firm healing balm
Streams a pretty show.
Curious eyes now spy,
Blooms and colours tint;
Flowers speak and sigh,
Rare and myriad mints.
Variety adds spice
To sensorial sights;
These gardens feel nice,
Craft and work surprise.
Words can only hint
What feasting eyes see;
Experience fine tints
Come to seed beauty.
A picture tells more
Than mere words can say;
Let gardens bring store,
Touch you on the way.
Now our weary feet
Falter with fatigue;
Leave for other streets,
Bear glimpse of magic.
Leon Enriquez
06 January 2015
Singapore
Auf Wiedersehn
Well here at last it's party time,in shorts and dirndl dress.
Excitedly we travelled to the fest, a night of pleasure lay ahead.
We knew from past experience, don't quaff, just savour beers.
Imbibing Munichs drinks too fast, could mar the atmosphere.
Laughter brings bonhomie, as old and new friends speak.
Let's raise our beer steins in a toast.for now the show begins.
People waving, singing loudly, while rocking to the beat.
And all around the milling crowds, now dancing in the streets.
Revelry with devilry, as young boys whistle, girls in short skirts coyly blushing.
Talking heads surround our table, animated arms translating.
Yesterday a bunch of strangers, today as friends sharing together.
Listen to the sound of lilting voices, melodies from different tongues.
Inviting us each night to join them, mixing beers and singing songs.
Kindred spirits everyone, together dancing on the benches.
Enjoying each and every moment, with an ice cold stein of beer.
Trying tasty tendeloin of pork, delicious with sweet mustard crust.
Ham wrapped-figs and hazelnuts, with drinks of cool spring bottled water.
Each time the band strikes up-Ein Prosit, all and sundry stands to toast.
Rebel rousing, crowds carousing, dancers dirndl skirts are swirling.
Entertaining energetic, party poopers paralytic.
Stomping feet and clapping hands, embarrassing each waitress serving beer.
No one even seems to care,they carry on with gay abandon.
Overacting then distracting, when outside and breathe fresh air.
Time to eat potato pancakes,refreshed by water keeping sober.
Once more, let's party, here we go, prancing to an oom-pah band.
Musicians wearing lederhosen, people stomping feet and slapping thighs.
Oktober Fest in frenzied celebration, cavorting couples holding hands.
Running wildly round each table, urging all to take the floor.
Rejuvenated, rock and rollers, overcoming mixed emotions.
Once more before auf wiedersehn, let's dance the night away, and
We will party like there's no tomorrow.
11 / 5 / 2016.