Long Figuratively Poems
Long Figuratively Poems. Below are the most popular long Figuratively by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Figuratively poems by poem length and keyword.
Figuratively speaking
not to be overly
expressive
each unstressed whisper
me and you together
wasting no time
I'm on your dime
love it when were're to gether
so you like evening dates
not to early not to late
abouta quarter to four
I'll be there for sure ooh, we ooh wee!
ah -ah ooh wee ooh
I look forward to the time
were you and I can be kind
ah sweet remind
an evening with you!
Lambic Foot
I can yes!
si I can yes!
I can sSi
I can Si!
Sing Si for me!
By Groovey Gammez
and the Twig retreat City Band
"Ah Coocky Dude"
Sang by
Griffer Griff
of Moss Sanga and Sanga
music company
" He Gotta Lotta Balls Using Meaty Music Dough!"
It's not figuratively thinking but abstractive!
Avoiding over abstract.
The road is clear.
The eyes within their limits
See the appearances of things
& their expressions, figures.
An eye is a tool for seeing .
Like an eye, the brain is a tool for the mind
Who takes you to the door of the hidden treasure house
Never
Enter
That's its/his limit.
The turn is for the upper, super, heart
When you say I you meant!
No seeing nor thinking
Taste.
Feel.
Sense of taste abnormally
The words could not explain
Yet an abnormal taster knew what it is.
So not to speak of what words cannot hold.
Over saturation with
welter weighted Yuletide
drenching world, web, wide
equal and/or greater
effort demands energy tide
to global warming,
lest apocalypse doth ride
high and mighty mandating,
inculcating, buoying... pride
toward planet Earth, the
apathetic, demonic, horrific,
plastic... malleable passive
can no longer run and hide.
Results elucidating, forthcoming,
groundbreaking courtesy of 23andme
nsync with network of
newly discovered cache of relatives
which painstakingly diligent
(joint) effort helped
map our family tree,
though her ardent effort
completed many months past I re:
visit substantially detailed
information about our genealogy,
this time (December)
of every year prompts me
now with particularly increased clarity
to conjure, imagine dragons,
order summon... glimpsing
mine Jewish ancestry,
yet nary handy
dandy blues clues,
not even one iota subsequently
qualifies yours truly to identify
with persecuted peoples be
leave me you,
a sudden fiery conversion
to immerse myself with Judaism fee
bull, nonetheless chronology
to broaden knowledge
base shockingly woke
greater awareness (i.e. truncated limbs)
regarding Holocaust soak
king unrepentant perpetrators
with blood on their
hands doth provoke
sadness more aware about
Eastern European distant
cousins bore yoke
of anti-Semitism
spiritually, figuratively
incises, didst stoke
albeit time delayed
vicarious pain, no matter broke
ken spirits long since
turned to dust, whereby
former ignorance (mine) linkedin
with smattering generations
of yore besmoke
horrors indelibly stitched within genes
comprising every bone
and sinew (mine).
Said heightened awareness
noticeably pronounced sudden
agonizing psychosomatic sensation
that did further third eye blind,
hence painful to open these brown eyes
already afflicted with severe myopia lined
with so called "floaters" necessitating
custom made bifocals, where Ophthalmic
laboratory technicians (manufacturing
opticians, optical goods workers, or kind
optical mechanics) deftly grind
cut, edge, and finish lenses according
to instructions provided by dispensing
opticians, optometrists, or ophthalmologists.
A rhetorical question finds me ask
king (to no one in particular) why I bask
with recollection the names of blank
exclamatory staid grade school crank
key teachers approximately
42,0480,000 breaths aye drank
fifty years ago (most whose names frank
lee listed below),
when the need to access
and retrieve
immediate necessary information
analogously interleaved
among coaxial bracts
during examinations relegated
as hopelessly lost
into interstitial invisible cranial cracks
irretrievably buried
during examinations, which age
(feels like a million years ago)
often found me seized and caged
with sudden inability to remember
any vital answers as gauged
evidenced by nothing writ
ten on paper (even including my name),
thus loosely similar as aye sit
to compose poetry,
and/or prose tempted to quit
asper defeated by resignation,
and sinking sensation in the pit
of my stomach (more so regarding orbit
ting like an unsound garden
black hole son around cold (mit
ten necessary) awful days grudgingly
handing over like a lit
till insignificant being,
a test paper devoid of academic grit
analogously surrendering
(while feeling fit
tubby tied, sense internally emit
ting abnegation sans chafing at the bit,
yet no sooner did buzzer indicated test
time over, then (of course),
an instantaneous pest
that blocked chunk dramatically
flowered gloriously invoking nest
head treasured mother lode
of learned information invest
ment accounting for principle ball lanced
formerly figuratively barricaded facts
suddenly at my behest
ironically retaining to this day
dogged details amazingly,
now gracing lix spittle fist size gray
dictating academic failure
forcing laying down pen hay
for ma forgotten requisite thoughts may
king skepticism about self thrive, ray
zing mailer demons impossible to slay,
Germane generic geeky guy
five sixths enroute
to complete lxiv luxurious Earth orbits
experienced chronic, demonic,
physiologically hegemonic...
irritable bowel syndrome
without shadow of a doubt,
yet aforementioned plight
the following lines of poetry
will not be about
problematic posterior plague.
After contemplating discomfort
linkedin with said medical condition,
yours truly realized aftermath
of Hurricane Ian concerning
those who weathered category storm
suffered a fate much worse
subsequently, I took a brief hiatus
typing lines of impossible
to understand questionable verse
challenging proclivity of one
yawping wordsmith being terse
yeah right you probably think
crowning glory upon
mine nonestablishmentarian literary endeavors
hands down majority of anonymous readers
would immediately qualify
his swiftly tailored prolix harried style
unquestionably, obviously, and irreverently
imposing expansive vocabulary as perverse,
no doubt hurling expletive donned curse
at me with every stinging breath they took.
The previous writing endeavor
attached catchy title
at outset intent to brook
unspoken protocols analogous to river,
which overflows banks swallowing
entire metropolitan areas
categorized as biblical flood
believed to occur once
every five hundred year
exhibiting impact greater
than storied facebook
(as personal side note,
said creation a markedly popular
social media platform)
influencing great swaths of populace
allowing, enabling, and providing
user trademark friendly look,
which ineluctably draws innocent naif
into webbed wide world,
where coders fashioned
innocuous virtual pitfalls
many a stalwart devout
online interoper figuratively snagged
courtesy tempting virtual,
lock, stock and withal
ingenious (some might chime in –
nefarious, opprobrious, pernicious...)
neigh vee tailhook.
Pennilessness disallows me
luxury tubby globe trekker
hence, my imagination
takes me random places minus
the hassles of
any rubber necker
gawkers always staring
at major or minor
crash test dummy
vehicular accident,
(now strictly, squarely,
and specifically,
for poetic license purposes
of this reasonably
rhyming adversity
I dreamt up, while
driving Miss Daisy, this
"FAKE" serious, albeit
totally tubularly
fictitious ho...
ho...humvee wrecker
involving holiday passengers
seated in luxury
of double decker
self driving bus,
which collided with a sleigh
carelessly manned by Santa Clause
(though no animals i.e. reindeer
harmed in the writing
of this video script)
donned in his
New England Patriot
Scottish Tartan checker,
thus the aforementioned,
non fatal narrow brush you
need rest assured, sans
make believe death - whew
fortunately miraculously,
and unbelievably true
lee delivered angels
intervened clear
out of the blue
mainly conjured from
me matt chew,
hoping ye dear reader enjoy
what I figuratively drew
merely to distract thee
dearly especial fan
to sidetrack vital tasks and brew
up a mug of warm
spirits from a moo moo
kosher bovine amazingly
able to understand Hebrew.
I am not a Christian, nor ever have been,
But I’ve benefited by living most my life
In a Judeo-Christian society.
So I know about Christ and a little about Jesus.
I know that Christians await the second coming.
And I understand why.
I also believe, in my own way, in miracles,
Especially the kind so subtle to go unnoticed,
And I see now we have witnessed one.
When people talk of Christ’s return
Most probably mean it figuratively
In the heart of the faithful,
Because this is what they have experienced.
But I also think there is a literal meaning
Which the faithful also expect.
As I said, I am not a Christian
But can say I have witnessed the second coming
Literally in the form of Charlie Kirk.
I never met him, but I listened to his radio show regularly
And never once heard something I didn’t like.
He was the embodiment of brightness,
Both intellectually and compassionately,
And our loss of his presence is devastating.
I have known death before
And usually the sting of its bite fades quickly
Into acceptance,
But this time, my grief just grows deeper every day.
And I know I am not alone.
I may be a clown, but I am no fool,
And so I can recognize the signs
And marks of greatness.
The world awaits and prays for God
To bless us with the second coming of His son,
And every once in a while, we get just that.
I am not a Christian
But I rejoice in the miracle I have witnessed.
(9/16/25)
Roman à clef tragicomedy...
overlaid with façade of fiction = Mein Kampf
No need for yours truly to dig deep,
(albeit bonafide figuratively)
by Dickens thru mine Uriah Heep,
a gnarled mass creep
ping, comprising, encompassing, glomming
abysmal existence strewn with hard times,
such that I wanna leap
out this metaphorical bleak house,
a black hole in the wall swallowing
i.e. disallowing any peep
ordinarily yawping, proliferating, flirting...
now fumfering lamely issued by keep
ping low profile super tramping cheap
trickster, our mutual
friend Matthew Scott Harris,
where lack of functioning heating unit
(think male organ if ye will)
upended, rendered, discombobulated...
scrappy body electric hominid
to experience quality sleep.
Principal reason I write
to balance and aright
unexpected largesse
(thank you dad), where
eyes suddenly got bright
and bushy tail incessantly
wagged day and night,
a sensible palliative temporarily
eased penury plight,
which cash equivalent,
viz four Benjamins alleviated quite
helpful thwarting necessity to fight
off bill collectors brandishing
armstrong lance's compelling me
to summon black knight
in shining armor lodged within white
castle amidst prickly bishop
obviously one prone easily to excite
amusing little lord Fauntleroy
groomed as heir to throne,
enthusiasm since his birth did ignite
(Aesop pose) storybook life,
where fanciful elation did take flight
buzzfeeding, droning, feasting
on par with Mister
Bumble bee in flight
sweet nectar amidst lilies of the field
analogous to stripling Adam - fine lad
eve vent chilly seeking delight.
Ah to gather rose while ye may
tis futile wishful thinking,
now at mine three
score orbitz round sun,
which libido far out at bay
prurient predilections once
spawn time wracked to lay
waste vestal virgin such as... Little Dorrit,
now... raging hormones stagnant clay
hardened, atrophied, eutrophied,
jackknifed limp bizkit
long bereft testy tickle
yar seaman quizzical,
slack jawed, and sullen at
deserted abandoned cobwebbed quay
ignored do not enter, keep out,
private property signals desiccated,
no place for Peter to take holiday
barring ingress to ply skin flute
amidst hollerin hootenanny,
perhaps convincingly explaining
welcoming Voldemort without delay.
Charcoal art with phoenix ash sculpt with medusa eyes
My art runs kicking
My art beats alive
Pluck loose quills up out my heart and engraft my skin with metaphors,
Mold my debris upon cemented floors,
Into living imagery, vividly un-simmered! Un-timidly bewildering things livid, you got to live it,
It is art entranced in dis-seamed meaning -no strands
Like unstrung puppets klopse marched or zulu danced -no hands
God singing through the Sistine chapel ceiling
Art is alive I heard art weeping on walls -Mona Lisa cries
You see you may have tried,
but you can never kill art, Art never dies
for art takes the dab on the jaw and is immortalized
Hung merrily smiles swinging on nooses like Tarzan on great vines
un-buried alive
excavated, repeated and perpetually illustrated from your basement to the frames and the walls of exhibition stages ink off the pen on the pages to the corners of a pavement that were once vacant and inescapable escape vent for things felt unseen and ignored from heartbreak to beauty and awe
Art kicks out the coffin door and kisses you on the forehead
throwing dirt and roses at your face
sheds a tear recites creeds & eulogies for ceremonies then shape shifts and trades place
for art will never be dead
Art defies both time and space
And
you don't know art
Art is not a concept
Art is not a chord a text a sketch or a complex
You will find "art" within the composition of a heart literally figuratively grammatically reality
you may try to see art
truth is you have to be art
you just have to be true
art is when you are free to express being the real you
art is alive
art
art is a life
Preface:
Earlier today May 28th, 2021,
the 12-member jury unanimously
found Cristhian Bahena Rivera guilty
of first-degree murder in brutal stabbing death
sentenced to life in prison
without the possibility of parole
of Mollie Tibbetts remembered as then friendly
20-year-old who was studying
to become a child psychologist.
IOWA CITY, Iowa
(killingly, jarringly inexplicable,
horribly, gruesomely, and forlornly),
the body found July 18, 2018,
an exhumed decayed corpse
belonging to young
vibrant coed twenty year old
college student Mollie Tibbetts.
Impossible mission to deduce
senseless killing of innocent babe
wild speculation perchance
spurned, snubbed,or scorned
love seriously gone wrong,
she who disappeared
from her small hometown
in central Iowa sad swan song
now plays, where every
last drop of sorrow rung,
now weeping family, friends,
relatives, et cetera subjected wrack
with lifelong emotional pain,
which searing inescapable
grief twill unrelentingly track
ferociously, fiercely, and figuratively,
doth disallow recourse
to duck away
from heart wrenching quack
king unbearably, terribly, and scathingly
will fully bill leave ably
beak homing a folly,
mockery, and travesty,
sans time heals
all wounds (truly "FAKE"),
nonetheless psyche riving tragic
(irrevocable loss) doth pack.
Grievous punch greater then any
all star olympic pugilist
straight to the ab
domain of opponent, where
rumor mongers mill and blab
how this, that, or
another potential suspect,...
whence tissues dab
corners of crying eyes,
an endless stream
of tears merge with gab
bullying utter disbelief.
Family/friends question
the supposed almighty
at devastating loss
to do nothing but bawl (at Baal)
into the fox sized rabbit hole
trying with futility
to block (even crawl
ling into every
rabbit hole) no bastion
against implacable
maddening crowded
house alive with murderous frenzy,
and a dialect (non
tickling) gentle Iowan drawl.
Third anniversary regarding
asper the impossibly steep toll
the purposelessness killing,
aforementioned deceased
affected sodden wet soul
cannot process any (defying) logic,
a foregone lovely gal (same age
as my youngest daughter),
whose missed presence,
(albeit said slain lass
Mollie Tibbetts – permanent absence),
now created an expansive
infinite black sink hole.