Long Files Poems
Long Files Poems. Below are the most popular long Files by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Files poems by poem length and keyword.
(Gen. 1: 1, 14 / * Isa. 26: 4 / Isa. 43: 10 , Isa. 44: 6 , Isa. 45: 5-7, 17, Isa. 46: 9-11 /
* Acts 1: 7 / * Eccl. 3: 1-8, 11 / Mark 13: 30-33 / 1 Tim. 1: 17 / Jude 25 / Rev. 21 :6)
The King Of Eternity Gave Me Laser Answers
So That I Would Know of All Matters
That It's All Only A Matter of Time
Yes, All Things Are Set In Time's Prime
Yes, It's All Only A Matter of Time's Size
It All Comes In The Frame As Time Supplies
The Past, The Present & The Future All Relates
It All Devolves Upon The Time That It Takes To Make:
Once Upon A Time:
One Drop of Water Pierced A Stone-Face Into A Smile
One Step Then Another Paced A Walk, A Million Miles
One Speck of Dust Then Another Made Earth's Mosaic-Tiles
... of Pebbles Into Boulders Until The Many Mountains Piled
& A Child Grew From An Embryo, As One Cell Multiplied
All In A Matter of Time's Length & Scope & Steady Strides
Once Upon A Time:
One Thread Joined Another Until Its Sewn Into A Fashion Style
& Years Reached The Hour's Stroke That Heralded End of Trials
Each Separate Instant As It Happened - Produced History's Files
See - Its All Only A Matter of Time, All The While
There Is A Time For Every Matter & A Time For Every Thing
It's All Only A Matter of Time's Space, Track & Sync
So It's Only A Matter of Minutes In The Continuum of Time
'Til We'll Meet The Moment - All Is Divine
Whether Its A Hard Conclusion or An Easy Climb
Whether Infinity Is Curved or In A Strict, Straight Line
Whether We Fail To Find Our Own Finally Arrived Sign
Or The Start & A Stop & In The Middle That Binds
Its All Only In A Matter of Time ...
Whether That's To Catch Ocean Waves or A Winds Cadence
Or To Fly Thru Galaxies By The Speed of Light's Radiance
Time Is Ever Moving Forward & Spreading In The Distance
Time Has No Break & Man Can't Hold Time With Resistance
Time Is A Touchstone, That A Traveler Uses As A Chart
Minutes Are Modes of Transport, In Time's Non-Stop March
A Moment Is Only A Motion, of Emotional Import
Yet Whether Its Digital or Analog or Of A Sundial Sort
We Can Touch Time - From Our Own Back-Porch
Time of Itself Is An Interval ... & Time Is A Track
One Can't Rewind Actions & Time Won't Run Back
(Unless of Course GOD Himself Designates That Act)
But Time Is Organized & A Tamper-Proof-Fact
(Part 1 of 3)
Written & Copyrighted © : 9/9/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
Don Pardo: Born: 1918-02-22 - Died: 2014-08-18
He’s been gone from SNL
We heard he wasn’t feeling all that well
Don Pardo’s number came around
The Lord was calling “Come on down”
Lauren Bacall: Born: 1924-09-16 - Died: 2014-08-12
Finally the sound Bacall longed to hear
I guess Bogie learned how to whistle this year
Robin Williams: Born:1951-7-21-Died: 2014-8-11
Robin you kept us in stitches
Of comic minds yours had the riches
If your mind had a filter
It was always off kilter
Your death was the greatest of glitches
Richard Kiel: Born: 1939-8-13-Died: 2014-8-10
Richard Kiel was the great villain Jaws
A man with a few minor flaws
He stood seven foot two
And you knew, you just knew
As a bad guy he’d win our applause
James Garner: Born:1928/4/7 - Died: 2014/7/19
We watched him in The Rockford Files
Victor Victoria brought us all smiles
And the great Maverick, Bret
Who could ever forget
James Garner was nothing but style
Johnny Winter: Born:944/2/23- Died: 2014/7/16
Johnny Winter, as thin as a splinter
And white as the fallen snow
He kept us amused
As he played the blues
Till it was his time to go
Tommy Ramone:Born:1949/1/29 Died: 2014/7/11
Tommy Ramone didn’t play the trombone
But he was a drummer of note
He played with his brothers
And never no others
For Hall of Fame, he got my vote
Casey Kasem: Born:1932/4/27 Died: 2014/6/15
Casey Kasem they treated you wrong
Stole your body, we looked, it was gone
Fighting for your estate
Until you were “the late”
Your passing would make a sad song
Ruby Dee: Born: 1922-10-27 - Died: 2014-06-11
Ruby Dee how can it be
An actress of your worth
With awards galore
You should have won more
Before you were yanked from this earth
Ann B. Davis: Born:1926/5/5-Died: 2014/6/1
Here's the story of a lovely lady
Who always played a great supporting soul.
Schultzy with the late great Robert Cummings
In the Brady bunch, old Alice was her role.
Till the one day when the lady met her maker
And we knew it was much more than a cold,
Ann B. Davis’s career has finally ended
And that makes some of us feel too damn old
Bob Hoskins: Born: 1942/10/26-Died:2014/4/29
Bob was an actor, a man with a face
That only a mother’s love could embrace
And in spite of that face, he became a great star
Bob Hoskins we’ll miss you wherever you are
study period
It’s December and my roommates and I are deeply into Christmas. We’ve got a little 3ft tall Christmas tree with about fifty-thousand little multicolor LED lights on it (LEDs because we ARE saving the planet). We’re in the ‘study period’ right before finals and It’s a lowkey Saturday night.
Lisa and I were pajama’d and gelaxing in our suite’s common room. She was in a tan easy chair and I was slouched on our red corduroy couch and my slippered feet up on a white coffee table. We had a Christmas playlist playing throughout the suite, a ‘Christmas lights of Paris’ Youtube video streaming silently on our TV and cups of Keurig brewed hot-chocolate with little marshmallows.
Leong came out of her room and joined us, taking a seat on the far side of the couch with me. After a moment she stretched-out, putting her head in my lap. I love her jet-black, cornsilk hair and it wasn’t long before I found myself stroking it, a gesture primates have been making since the pleistocene period. When Lisa glanced over at us and smiled, I started making gestures like I was looking for fleas in her hair and eating them - in a silly, momentary comedy lost on Leong.
We got back from November recess a few days ago. After three years together, it was easy, almost automatic, for us to fall back in our rhythms as roommates. On arrival, I glanced through my drawers, dirty clothes and shelves, taking a casual inventory. Everything was as I remembered it but still, everything had the feel of trivial leftovers from some lost civilization.
I got a new M3-iMac, it’s really the best platform for putting docs side by side. The first thing I did was hit ‘restore my setup’ from the cloud. I love futzing with tech - I can remember when that kind of restoration would have taken all day - but fifteen minutes later I could tell from the files on my desktop that everything was restoring nicely.
As I sat back on my office chair watching the restoration, I felt myself relax. THIS was real life, this was how life should be done. No matter what else I’d done or where else I’d gone - this was how my life should be - at school, with friends, facing those challenges. It was a peek-moment.
It was an illusion that my little iMac welcomed me back, like an old friend, as it finished restoring - wasn’t it?
.
.
jelaxing = gelling & relaxing
>>1111>>STRAIGHT TO THE POINT<<1111<<
Straight to the point,
No stopping this,
I'm your rival,
This life is about survival,
Or survival of the fittest?
The dopest most explosive lyrical genius writing this,
Beats are tight and vital,
About to take and claim my title,
I'm a nineties dirty ghetto kid,
Accessing detailed memories through subconscious files,
Skateboard connected to my feet grounded,
Pen and paper writing for miles,
Embracing life in a system of madness,
Always doin my best with a huge smile,
While fully grateful,
Within the game with no shame,
On a different level,
Nothing is ever the same,
Imagination left wild,
Positive tendencies learnt through experiments,
Some failed,
Listening to greenthumb, inhale,
Giving anything a go,
within a system i'm not labeled,
Minds collectively lacking cognition,
Brain function disabled,
Getting a message across in rhyme,
Mailed to your mind,
Will it consciously reach ya? teach ya?
My krew never far, we have a laugh,
And hit the footpath,
Skating to a spot with steez,
Stomping tricks but it’s not enough,
Gotta skate fast and master our craft on film,
A skate process of learning patience and pain,
Falling constantly, never giving up,
Fully mindful maneuvers landed consistently,
Converting new skate knowledge to life instantly,
Brain cells firing with high energy form electricity,
Synapse resurrected for the very first time,
Elevating effectively with positivity and productive activity,
In the eyes of society I’m on the same level as workers in a factory,
Trapped but found my way out,
On an alternative route,
I’ve knelt,
To the source creating all of our force,
A seeker without remorse cause that don’t matter,
There’s no deity creator,
Just innocent ignorant talking as a hater,
Instead be like ill mind of Hopsin seven,
Questioning sin, Dismiss,
Listen up, I gotta state this,
This strategic system using the majority of countries citizens,
What I’m consciously witnessing from a distance in the South pacific,
Is insanity at its core to be specific,
Writing from my imagination sober and sometimes stoned,
Striving for balance,
On my skateboard I feel the same,
Sending this out,
You know my name,
Just another street nobody with fame within my clan,
My man Fury this is for you Homie.
"Super Hero"
Krypto Knighted
Disrobed Le Penseur
contemplates strength
a royal monk disrobing within
Rodin begins to think
new dreams dialled in
naked vulnerability begins
hiding behind dark angel wings
pinned between the box-cadged
dimensions of a glass onion
black crows waiting along the ley lines lead,
super natural morsel fed
dark nights fly into unhooded blinding daze
towards the gauntlet
landing tethered and tamed
temperated, nixed and disarmed
Hawk of the Lure,
long winged
creance held
in the grey rock silence
evaluated
hard-penned
full-summed
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
“Super Hero” / Johnny Hollow
https://youtu.be/JGkC-8Qu0JM
“Land of the lost and sedated
Will someone come,
Save us from,
This storyline of mass destruction
Will they stay,
When they see,
What we have done
just to be free…”
Crypto/Krypto, meanings
https://www.thefreedictionary.com/krypto-
Glossary of Falconry Terms:
https://sora.unm.edu/sites/default/files/journals/jrr/v003n03/p00058-p00067.pdf
"Super Hero", Johnny Hollow / LYRICS
https://genius.com/Johnny-hollow-superhero-lyrics
Kryptonite
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kryptonite
"full-summed" / refer, Glossary of Falconry Terms.
Le Penseur.
The Thinker was initially named The Poet (French: Le Poète), and was part of a large commission begun in 1880 for a doorway surround called The Gates of Hell. Rodin based this on The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, and most of the figures in the work represented the main characters in the poem with The Thinker at the center of the composition over the doorway and somewhat larger than most of the other figures. Some critics believe that it was originally intended to depict Dante at the gates of Hell, pondering his great poem. Other critics reject that theory, pointing out that the figure is naked while Dante is fully clothed throughout his poem, and that the sculpture's physique does not correspond to Dante's effete figure. The sculpture is nude, as Rodin wanted a heroic figure in the tradition of Michelangelo, to represent intellect as well as poetry.
Falconry:
"So What Exactly is Falconry?"
http://www.pfht.org/falconry/
Nine lives removed from royal dignity
Five days after
getting acquainted with darling cats
pampered like queens courtesy
thee eldest daughter
and her partner acquired as kittens
reminiscence occurred regarding
one particular four footed feline
my late mother doted over.
Lion eyes hide predatory wage
sharp retractable sharp claw
never did the late Sage
exhibit talon nor ferocious jaw
even when getting his nails clipped,
said gentle cat infrequently
sunk daggers into soft human skin,
but upon completion
of aforementioned onerous task,
he voicelessly, soundlessly, passively,
manly, joyfully did withdraw.
Aye attest tubby reincarnated
(as well mine eldest daughter's beau)
from one male Russian Blue
species Felis silvestris catus
named Morris if that gives
a handy dandy clue,
and during my fuzzy past
hence, asthma “Cats Cradle”
segued and Atlas
shrugged off kitten hood
fur hum lee established
type cats as (tin pan) alley cat,
a rather litter boxed gritty debut
t'wood become (later in life) tabby
quick as greased lightning
snatching in the air,
when tender vittles flew,
technically got fired (acquiring
appropriate nicknames)
as fame (like a bushy cat tail) grew
viz perfect back up crooner
for “Cat Stevens”,
or lead singer for
the "Stray Cats" oddly
coupled, featured, and
incorporated with the guru
Horton Hears A Hoo,
yes him Elephant resembling
a humongous mandrake
from the, "Animals"
whose body heat could
easily melt an igloo,
whereby Inuits accepted charity from
Korean philanthropists named Joo
(founders of Palaces for Pachyderms)
these lumbering creatures possessed
an exemplary photographic memory
(rivaling that of the amazing
deceased idiot savant
Kim Peek), he knew
practically every detail
incorporating page number, punctuation
plus citing word for word
never truncating, omitting,
nor jumbling... any lines,
and could track missing link,
when felines shared common ancestor
but,...such petty files
would most likely boar
and go way off course, and hence
will shy away being extempore
favoring a deliberate fore
ray padding around basically ignore
ring any rhyme or reason
suddenly ending this persiflage,
and thence to thee bon jour,
cuz yours truly off
in a huff to bang a lore.
Once again the annual holidays came, a time of great cheer
We, the batch mates of 1976 planned a mega get together
We wanted to make it an occasion to be memorized for ever
Tracking old friends was indeed a laborious endeavor
A lot of discussion and phone calls had to be made
And finally the expected date and venue were conveyed
We decided to meet at a holiday resort/restaurant
In Kovalm, on the shores of the blue water crescent
Beside the sea strand with restless waves heaving-
A respite from the tumultuous striving for a living
The gathering started off as a trickle, some came in time, some, late
Many faces were beyond recognition and found hard to relate
With nostalgic memories crowding in our hearts
And emotions of joy and longing choking our throats
We entered the conference hall in small streams
Its walls resounding with expletives of shouts, howls and screams
We were all set to partake in a communion beyond words and thought
And turn the pages of the past with memories fraught
Once everyone was seated inside, the formal session began
Followed by a self introduction, each trying to be as elaborate as one can
Travelling down the memory lane and helping the group reach back
The memory files, long forgotten and buried in the unused stack
In that salubrious ambiance we were all inclined to renew old ties
And rekindle friendship’s flagging flame before it dies
Felt we were still young with balding heads and graying hair
Expanding waistlines and bodies that needed constant repair
We remembered those who were deleted forever from life’s scroll
And thanked God for having got a chance to meet within that hall
The whole day, we sat and talked, sharing memories of our younger years
Gloating on and on about our literature class and our beloved teachers
We didn’t know that time was speeding past like a sprinting hound
With a sumptuous dinner, our session was finally wound round
And with a tearful goodbye, we bade adieu to all our batch mates
With a resolve to meet again whenever such a chance awaits
Though have traveled far and wide with family during vacations
This get together after decades stays happier beyond all proportions
Jan. 27.2022
My Favorite Vacation Poetry Contest
Sponsor- L. Milton Hankins
Stashed with programs recorded, which, condensed on universal files
Will tell them very little of what they don’t know and may never know
In this lifetime or the next heaven, in this orbit or the next
Treasure from this Earth loaded up on classical chips, some kind of text
Even the quantum loads with memory mimetic, made to mimic the brane
Will lead you no where’s at all, empty, with your mind well past insane
For what else or beyond could be so crazy as to part from this precious earth
Without ever having known it’s cost, price, work, measure or stint of worth
And clearly, those who leave, when they leave, will not have known one grain
Of sand or soil, mud or toil: all dusty plows pluming billow-clouds into rain
Run on gasoline or stocks of mules, donkey, horse, or ram, shepperd’s hand
Fields from lost fields, turning wheat from grass, rice from blue water land
The mystery of death and birth still a mystery; life a mere reminiscence
Without any real light here or plant photometry, only luminescence
Imagine leaving this planet without every having known it’s rhythm
Going to some other world set in it’s own path, with it’s Keplerian hum
Beating out some different drum, set in a blinding sphere of light and sound
Like blended whiskey with the Irish; or Navajo, without the calendar round
Sans irony, the starmen will consult their astrologer or star-chart for this logic
Countin’ the days before they land again when the stars are [csmo]allo-genic
Since this cosmos has revealed no light to them, the starmen going forth
Eager to jump off of Earth’s orbital path, bend and trajectory
Their spacesuits, ships, tanks, sabres, and thrusters made from the factory
Everything printed like plastic in hazy glow and in false dimension
In light and low gravity, with false smiles and fat charms hanging in suspension
How could the new age begin completely unaware, one might ask ?
With no real knowledge of how the past one ended, without a task
This high level of dimness, this naivete, and ignorance unknowing
Much like blind men on the river styx, or perhaps, along with Homer rowing
Going from one ruse to harbour next shenanigan—look into the Cyclop’s Eye!
No land in Egypt and with Dido elope, with the Siren’s despair, intoxicants in Libya
Sausages are meal items that should be avoided at all costs by very small rabbits. Tiny white fish with silver fins carry red flags that denote danger in a tide. So hop jump up a tree then. That should be interesting and safe as solace springs from branches and all wood can be shaped. Mistake not a red dialled mustard cake for a pizza for the wires hidden can explode. Uncharacteristically benevolent to invoke trust then erratically boom to give a red dust to the air. Explosive are the surrounds in many a dusty floor. If a beautiful lady is fishing for pike she must first wear a bonnet shaped like a turtle's shell. For to avoid the many pellets thrown by passing fleas,flues,ants and beetles. Humming a silvery tune to entice the marvellous beast for the summer feast and festivals of the sun are counted on long sticks. Spinning tops can often be made from small plastic piglets whose round shapes assist them to spin many many times. So entertaining for classes. When the mind is silent the caterpillar ghost files open to rearrange and sort the many piles of assorted mind excursions into organised pan and shape. With a slight touch of wisdom from elders and books. Knowledge can be prevalent in a kiss of fresh air or the breezes of a mountain stream. Steaming is not unusual at this time. Temperature raised then cooked to even a once fragmented core. Apples are amazing creatures if placed by a garden gate in a large barrow. It takes a long time for a small five centimetre pig to gather together the fodder. All the differences are displayed in a global pie. Pieces are even, exact and work together harmoniously in a giant whirl. Mélange bien remue bien tra la tra la tra la on. And obviously a seven acre sea horse cannot work a diameter six barrel no a trapezium. When x to y an x to z take a bucket and wear it on one's arm. Trading a tailor for a trademark. Teaching turtles to talk tantrically. Fishing in undergrowth for left unsustainable weapons of old. Goblets of greed gone. Homing a house full of horses. Hemming heifers. Saintly suns and mystical moons. Many hands many ingredients. Many times a foretold faith. Xx lovingly living life lifestyles. Xx denominations. *** calling cards caressing *** evaporation xxxx acrylonitrile *** and now I will have a coffee. ***
Form:
Manila folder,
Growing older,
Lying on table,
Watching other files,
Grow bolder,
It was earlier looked upon,
Now ignored,
As if it was dead,
After a bloody gore,
They had submerged in its custody,
A lot many papers and notes,
Carrying dates and events,
About people and of people,
Some body took a decision,
And others left them for future,
It needed for a full view,
Lot of sutures,
Perplexed and seeing its capacity,
They had simply affixed a label,
And left it at storage level,
Years went by in vain,
Lot others joined it in graveyard,
Not for short but pretty long,
Saying has it that every dog has its day,
It so happened that while the manila folder lay gathering dust,
One of the persons not decided upon with in the manila,
Had grown in stature and length,
Either through effort ,luck,relation or lust,
He had reached where he was,
He beckoned all signatures in the manila,
And sought his dues,
If it was not forthcoming,
Then he waved a thick stick,
All signatures rushed to look for manila,
They raised dust and dusted files for long,
Opportunist men got their way,
And having found manila,
Gave a full blooded bay,
As they chuckled in delight,
The 'big man' came around for another fight,
Now they were scared to no end,
And turned the pages of manila,
They frantically looked,
Where they had signed and not,
Where they did not they did,
And some places where they had,
Got it erased,
Manila was theirs,
So what if 'money' was his,
Finally manila was in demand,
And used and gored,
Like a happy whore,
Manila looked askance,
At the door to graveyard,
Where it had spent years in exile,
Before getting this 'exciting while',
Then to top it all,
The Manila had its final big ball,
The day came,
When the big man came to undo his last fall,
He held the Manila lovingly in his palms,
Which were wet and warm,
In anticipation of lot of money caused calm,
His greedy and beady eyes,
Warmed each curve of manila,
As manila coyly smiled unabashedly smiles vanilla,
The swarthy and mean big man,
Saw his words,
Understood them well,
Kept them digested in mind,
Looked disdainfully,
At frightened signatures,
And voila! Tossed the manila folder,
From where he stood,
Back in graveyard to grow older.