Long Figure Poems
Long Figure Poems. Below are the most popular long Figure by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Figure poems by poem length and keyword.
I stood up on the table to see what was there and the ground began to shake throwing objects all over the place; the tall building collapse and sinks instantly into the ground the house fell on its side covering everyone alive.
The trees began to tumble down and the mountains give way and the earth swallowed up its prey and the bridge that connects the cities crashes suddenly and fell into the sea and a ferocious wind began to blow tossing the city to and fro.
Screams and shout echoes from a distance and the heavens open its pregnant wings and empty gallons of water in the dry stream and the desert crawls helplessly on its broken knees and soaked its body.
The tectonic plate has shifted and I moving into another direction, it has been going on for more than three billion years and it is finally getting there. A three-dimensional figure is converging in the center, the transformation has begun, and the earth is singing a new song. The wall of the city has broken down and wanderers were ejected from the town, everything is closing in and a new atmosphere is chiming in.
Things happen suddenly to throw you off balance and the big crack across the street is telling you that the journey is complete; it took the travelers by surprise but there was nothing much that they could do but put on a different pair of shoes and watch the earth tectonic plates grind past one another, releasing lots of energy around the corner. It spews lava out of the ground and the molten rock deep within the earth is moving rapidly between the tectonic plate.
I can feel the magma under my feet, and I have an urgent message to complete, the magma is moving towards the east and the temperature is cursing over a hundred degree.
The heavens above are getting warm and the landscape is changing its form. The mountain is modifying it ridge and the magma is escaping over the hill; the plates are sliding past each other, and they are spreading between one another forming a tapestry all over the place you have to get ready for the marathon race.
The city center is closing down, and the people are evacuation out of the town. You must prepare for a crucial showdown. The tapestry is spreading and transforming the entire town.
Ugliness lingers
when beauty is gone
much further divided
than dusk is from dawn
I reference not
the figure or face
but rather the heart
of our lost human race
We fancy ourselves
as noble and great
yet treat one another
with hearts full of hate
And day after day
with greater aggression
we bind ourselves up
in cords of oppression
The beasts of the field
know nothing of pride
They neither plot murders
nor plan suicide
No animal exploits
another for gain
The Earth never blackmails
the sky for her rain
Has any man witnessed
the bigotry of
the trees or the grass
or a self righteous dove?
So, right is now wrong
and truth is a lie
since when we first heard
we won't surely die
And ugliness is
what beauty once was
And man is now praised
for the evil he does
This isn't your normal poem
Though draped in familiar words
And adorned with figures of speech—
Four stanzas, four lines each.
This is a story of bravery and brilliance
One that will change your perspective
On the might of a woman and love's alliance—
A charming figure, so addictive.
This is the story of Queen Cleopatra,
An Egyptian charismatic ruler.
Like the rain revitalized Egypt
On the basics of love, she was well-equipped.
Not only a beloved ruler she was,
But a charming beauty with a cause.
When she smiled, it was as if the sun itself had risen;
Her eyes, like twin stars, shone with majesty.
She won hearts right from the start
She conquered that of Antonio
And formed an alliance
A bridge between two seas.
The clock is always ticking,
the hair just gets more gray,
we think we’ll live forever,
we always act that way.
But how many before us
fell into this same trap?
How many names forgotten
when we try to look back?
Is life just a wait for death,
or a new path we must tread?
Go to sleep exhausted,
you can rest when you are dead.
What is it you want to say?
What is it to dream to do?
Build a home, write a book,
have a wife and children two.
Explore hidden places
to see the wonders there,
Probe science’s secrets
to know what most wouldn't dare.
Do something so the future
will know the words you’ve said,
go to sleep exhausted,
you can rest when you are dead.
The universe will not care,
it’s a dead and soulless thing,
the duty to remember
falls upon just the living.
Will they see you as a cog
moving in some vast machine?
Or will they see a figure
who made manifest his dreams?
Let all the people to come
know you wouldn’t yield to dread,
go to sleep exhausted,
we can rest when we are dead.
The spotlight flashes funny flair on sagged dress,
miniature crimson sun stuck on the porcelain face.
An animated caricature in comical frail human figure
tramps round and round the circus pitch to amuse.
Sprightly body gyrates in flexed moves of acrobatics,
sleight of hands performs the perfect act of jugglery,
but labored buffoonery of the unfunny fragile clown
falls flat as flakes of stale joke on silent spectators.
Before the neon lights go out in the last show
the slapsticks peel the paint off his sweaty face.
Unmasking the trail of tears he has long cried
he sings a song on the lyric of his broken heart.
The uproar of laughter explodes in the gallery,
the applause hails the crumbled clown at the abyss.
March 6, 2020
Contest : Clown At The Abyss
Sponsor : Kai Michael Neumann
March 29, 2020
Contest : Strand No 710, Any Theme, Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The compassion I didn't have...
makes me look back with regret;
yesterday seemed a bit boring
without that happy feeling...
Would you get even and not think
of the consequences of a heartbreak?
We thought life would be so simple,so wonderful...
full of every sweet desire,
and joy,never wanting more!
We reached for the stars and felt invincible,
but underneath there was doubt,
and fear we couldn't figure out!
The compassion I didn't have
can betray me in a moment so sad...
to make me dearly pay
when you'll suddenly turn away;
the compassion I didn't have
can change my reality any day!
Will you reach out to me
and try to forgive me?
Will you feel some sympathy for me,
forgetting that I did you much wrong?
And would it be better to pretend...
than to call it off as a sad memory?
Loneliness burns my nights away
like a fire that can't stop burning,
but inside I am hurting...
remembering the tears you shed,
regretting the compassion I didn't have
and those words I didn't say!
Born into a world filled with deceit,
Morals that are becoming obsolete,
Tossed into a cycle of hatred and fear,
Poverty promotes some of our children to steal,
Not one child is an accident, God already new,
The hardships in life they would go through,
Not one is the same; they all have an original DNA,
There is a Purpose for every child even if they are lead astray.
Many live in a home with a single mom,
Growing up to fast like a ticking time bomb,
Latch key kids and after school care,
Is not enough love and can’t certainly prepare,
Our children with the tools they need to survive,
In a competitive world where you need an excellent drive,
Many pretend that their children are fine,
That they have not been affected in their heart, spirit and mind.
Parents are in denial,
While their children get defiled,
Young girls hanging out on the streets,
Being physically and emotionally beat,
Selling their dignity just to feel like a male figure cares,
Teenage boys don’t know how to love; they too had no one there!
Help a child that you know is in distress,
You could make the difference in their success,
Be a role model and a friend,
It does not take much too slightly bend,
A conversation and friendly smile,
May save a child from adapting to a wrong lifestyle.
By: Sabina Nicole
Born five score minus seven years ago
minus attaining age of centenarian
father of civil rights movement,
the revered Martin Luther King Junior
honored as benevolent demigod figure
to the oppressed African American population
without whose bold risks
and subsequent brutal assassination April fourth
ninety sixty eight at the hands
of a crazed gunman (James Earl Ray),
whereby all the King's men
and all the King's horses...,
still aghast at tragic event
while reverberations felt forty two years later,
where embedded white privilege
begets continued racial strife
analogous to uncorked raging tempest
saddling people of color to human bondage
(no matter ponying up excellent equestrians),
nevertheless wrought empowerment
advancing cherished dreams
of slaves recent descendents
allowing, enabling and providing
once attainable aspirations
only bestowed upon
the self anointed masters and early settlers of
the virginal North American contiguous land mass
yet…generations prior
to this prestigious public personality
Abolitionists pitted themselves
against the institution of slavery
incrementally raising awareness
regarding the abomination
forced servitude incurred on those shackled
thus setting the stage
for this grandson of A.D. Williams
a rural parsonage,
who ministered spiritual support
for the small congregation
(initially only thirteen members)
comprising attendants at
Ebenezer Baptist church in Atlanta Georgia
setting precedent for freedom
Why do I get so angry?
I wanna hit you in the face!
I know it's not my position,
But I'd like to put you in your place.
My cheeks are getting red now,
My feelings I can not hide.
It will only be a moment before they come outside.
I try to hold them in my head.
"Take a second" I tell myself.
"Gently take your thoughts and lay them on the shelf".
My eyes are getting tighter,
I just don't know what to do.
I have to get control before I shoot my look at you.
My shoulders are getting heavy now,
My back is starting to straighten.
Be very careful, `cause in a moment
I can be very blatant.
It's not my fault at all you see,
I wish I had an answer.
I wish I knew what was wrong with me,
Each time it gets much faster.
The morbid and crazy things I feel,
The thoughts rush to my head.
I don't really mean what I am saying God,
But I often wish I were dead.
I want to stay here and live my life.
I'm trying to figure out how.
How do I control my feelings?
I have to learn right now.
Form:
Who, Why, What, Where, When?
Take a meme, and make it clean by belief, engagement,
God meme, Santa Claus or denim jeans are fundamentals,
They offer a magic carpet to all partakers into fulfilment,
When we endorse the concepts behind these credentials.
Like god, belief in Jesus is optional, warranty undelivered,
On two levels: as the son of god, and as the son of man,
The latter being the term more frequented by gospel word,
When he emerged as the people’s hero, up for a ban.
Richard Carrier believes that Jesus never existed at all,
Historically, but he doesn’t speak much of psychosomatics,
Which assumes contemporary phrasing and a high call,
To spread medical remedies and to dismiss ecclesiastics.
Crucifixion was the punishment method used back then,
Just as the electric chair is used today in the United States,
And very many people were crucified each week, like Ben,
Some who’d changed their name to Jesus, or “demonstrates”.
Jesus in the Israeli language meant saviour of the people,
Meaning intrinsically from the Roman government seed,
Trying to figure out how to make progressivism capable,
So they asserted themselves in the court case of creed.
So, if we take the storyline stat, then what does it emit,
Did Mary and Joseph name the boy on their first day?
To call him then by an off the rack name - “Jesus” bit,
Which indicated that he would create medical sway.
If Jesus crucified as god never happened, that's fine,
If Jesus was not born virgin god incarnate, then ok,
But if a Nazarene boy fit the bill as Jesus the myth, rhyme,
Then don't claim that he needed this mould to thus say.
And don't presume you don't have a faith to propel you,
That is, if you believe that a man died for his human acts,
Towards the poor and the sick who upon old age, chase,
Were only encouraged to commit suicide as bad facts.
Reading the text, many Jesus’s were crucified at this time,
So the canonical gospels may not consider just one healer:
Therefore if you think this then life can be not sublime,
And so whether you're called this or that is not clever.