Long Folios Poems
Long Folios Poems. Below are the most popular long Folios by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Folios poems by poem length and keyword.
What conundrum lies under life's foxy rinds
That even the most adept eye seldom finds?
The surgeon's knife removes the outer coat
To see hard lids that mask the whole report.
Keenest pilots only fly far above the riddle
That fiercest submarines bypass beneath.
Your most bookish attorney all so discreet,
Skips the arcane page with clamping teeth.
Learned lecturing geeks with dense lenses on,
Awfully ruin that stealthy paradox's silent tone.
And though brainy engineers quite close come,
The lupine puzzle leaves them guessing dumb.
World's award-winning pens deal it a dismal try.
They weave airy scenes bereft of reality's touch:
With grisly folios wherein fictitious actors cry,
With thievish knaves who glut in clamiest loot.
Even the deepest learning by bipedaled types,
Shall not unearth existence's inscrutable lipes.
I don't want to be starting any family wars
but hands up if you love your in-laws (long pause)
Be warned, yours could be around for 60 years
and be ten times worse than your worst fears
So I hope Groom you took care with selection
of those who'll do constant vivisection
and dissection of your most intimate habits
and who'll want you to get as busy as rabbits
Choosing your in-laws is more important than the bride
so I hope with the following rules you did abide
I'd go and hide if you've broken just one
You'll need a new alias and money to run
There are warning signals not to ignore
like them wanting keys to your back door
or the in-law who's a diabolical snare
offering you hand-me-down underwear
The underwear's been in the family for generations
It's been through trials and constipations
Good family relations will not stand a rejection
so run away now, or risk an infection
And watch out if when you court her
the girl always quotes what they've taught her
She's their daughter and you have no claim –
next they'll insist you take their family name
If your mother-in-law always overcooks
she's trying to destroy your wife's good looks
She doesn't want your hooks on her daughter so fair
so she'll make her unattractive with chocolate éclair
From what the groom's told me there's cause for concern
Every time he sees them they're strangely taciturn
It's when they're taciturn you've got to get away
because it's more important what they don't say
He said her Dad only grunts if he greets him at all
and talking to him is like talking to a brick wall
He's heading for a fall, like a sick matador
It's more serious than the keys to the back-a-door
It's not the folios they push on superannuation
or their career change 'recommendation'
It's not their consternation at his mountains of sin
Cor blimey it's worse, they want to move in!
Contest: The Pensive Poet
Sponsor: Constance La France
Yesterday, while disencumbering
the uppermost shelf
of an age-softened cupboard,
I disinterred a notebook
whose quiet custody
I had neglected
for longer than memory
readily admitted.
Its linen cover
had acquired the sepia patination
reserved for faithful objects.
The loosened binding
had relinquished
its final covenant,
while wayward folios
leaned from its margins
like hesitant emigrants
uncertain whether
remembrance still required
their return.
I smiled,
certain I was about to encounter
the young man
who had once believed
every grief
could be persuaded
into cadence.
Instead,
there were astonishingly
few poems.
Several folios
enshrined nothing
beyond a solitary date.
Others preserved
a single unfinished line,
abandoned in transit,
as though interruption
had quietly mistaken itself
for permanence.
One page
offered only a title.
Another,
a single hesitation—
Perhaps…
Thereafter,
I resumed
the slow liturgy
of turning pages,
until the room itself
entered recollection—
the metrical persuasion
of rain upon old windows,
intonations now exiled
from ordinary hearing,
faces whose names
had withdrawn
into the republic
of silence.
Then an apprehension,
gentle as dust,
settled upon me.
For a notebook
harbouring so little language,
it possessed
an inexplicable gravity.
No law of matter
could justify
such weight.
Until I understood.
Paper does not remember ink.
It remembers
hesitation.
Not the poems
that were written,
but every lyric
that declined
the imperfect shelter
of articulation;
every valediction
deferred into silence;
every avowal
that arrived
after its recipient
had already departed;
every recollection
for which no utterance
proved sufficiently
hospitable.
A blank page
is never empty.
It is merely
guarding a poem
that has refused
premature existence.
I returned the notebook
to the shelf
with a reverence
absent from my first touch.
Some books
are fastened
with paper and thread.
A poet's notebook
is bound
by everything
it persuaded itself
not to forget.
Against wild dogma and feathery wit,
Shall your sound idioms and wisdom
Outshine fickle folios of mortal sages;
Proving verity in its irrepressible form.
Your arresting dictums shall outshine
Obtuse hallowed tomes devoid of life,
Which erudition’s minions kissing die;
Sepulchered beneath self-spun strife.
Each revivifying line a failsafe dose,
Curing the unquestioning pupil soul;
Which heeding its fathomless force,
Glowing dims deified sky-high stars.
Those fibs-shaming adages of yore
Shall diffuse war’s menacing nukes,
Neutering gory ciphers spelling awe;
Turning brawls into inviolable peace.
Diverse ideas vie for fecund place
In my mind and heart these days,
Every new thought sees the next
As an invasive unwelcome guest.
And being a democratic fella at heart,
I just wouldn't wish to play major part
As judge if privilege and freedoms be
Basis why litigious kinsmen disagree.
To every thought there's natural right
Enshrined in legal folios beyond fight:
Any idea may claim an acre of mind,
In any random astute brain they find.
And so I a respecter of sacred things
Such as fragile rights of mute beings,
Must let every instreaming opinion in;
And call null their war and brutish din.
For, has not every sovereign thinker,
Rights of their own to soundly tinker,
And censor apt and odd notion alike,
That within their wild cranium spike?
Between conjecture and classification there is
observation, experiment, data (collection and analysis),
statistics, calculus, and a good guess
about God's intentions - probabilities, fractals, chaos and complexity.
This is the thunderous city.
The form of the poem, the rhyme.
Form cannot be first if you want to reach high artistic levels, since
you are then bound by form, and that form is very often a
betrayal of reality.
Yet I find I am attracted all the time
to philosophies in short skirts, jewels and eyes lined with kohl.
I love where her legs lead, to her very soul.
Three women hike by under an umbrella in a winter rain. Two men side
by side run in rhythm.
An oil truck takes the hill in low steady gear.
My old Marine, 89, died last night without anxiety or fear.
May I overcome my pain enough to reach the place where the deer lay
down their bones
and, like them, die alone.
When making an axe handle, the pattern is not far off.
The purpose of school is to introduce us to the world's innumerable
wonders.
The periodic table, World Wars I and II, Huckleberry Finn and Jim.
But soft,
what light through yonder window breaks?
It is a billion trillion nuclear detonations per second without which
nothing can be done or faked.
The temple bell stops, but the sound still comes out of the flowers.
Forests and the composite species will be nameless. Genetic prowess,
receiving the sacrament, performing Lohengrin from the Great American
Songbook,
the look of love in all the wrong places, facebook,
fakebooks, folios of old family photos on or in pianos.
When we took Pop-Pop off the ventilator,
we put him in a refrigerator.
He stopped eating, he stopped breathing. Circle with a dot.
He had his dream, he'd rowed his boat.
Organic computers using polymerase and qubits came later.
Annette Arnold had recently left college
And was thrust into flimsy dating realms;
She grabbed pen and paper to describe
Top-choice dude of her fanciest dreams.
Dashingly handsome and of complexion nice,
And gallant gait akin to quaint legends' knight;
Sainted for inventive hare's monstrous brains,
Whose vast wit tales eternalize in folios white.
Certainly wielding humongous fiscal sway
At glance to dwarf mythology’s Midas' turn;
Brandishing glitzy wads as any moguls may,
Ever copiously donating all yet lacking none.
Life tenant within fame's flashiest abodes
Where prince and duke sure habitat have,
And king and princess choicest liquids sip;
Where queen and gods fine victuals serve.
Never must such his hallowed mistress
With betrayal's faithless mischiefs afflict,
Defiling indelible vows in his loyal troths,
He’ll steadily love whatever woes persist.
And so first to hit her with resistless lines
Was one William Watts imbiber of wines;
Neither that dashing handsome nor wise;
Faring far from afore-hinted pigment nice.
After wee-witted Williams’ charming vibes
Popped Ronald Riveter from politest tribes,
Known for most arresting manly physique;
Sorry stranger to Midas’ coin-clinking trick.
When Bernard Belmont's pics were seen
He looked plain and of disposition mean;
Unacquainted with idolized royalty’s fame,
Unadorned with duke's resplendent name.
And last Jason Jay did his mistresses vex
If records past might reveal lovers' specks;
His faint affections as whims rose and fell;
Sundering divinest troths as irate exes tell.
Searing decades of pen-and-paper wait
Nabbed no Knight of heaven-hewn trait;
And so did choice-wiser Annette Arnold
Award meek Martin Monks her aisle nod.
images
yesterday's visions
in a well
within
lost
in
wonder
an inner light
envision
dreams
hallucinatory
visions
lying
as flotsam,
washed by the tide
cascading
igniting
pictures
within
my mind's eye
a deluge of dreams
floods of fantasy
rivers of reverie
torrents of thoughts
vapours of visions
waterfalls of words
imaginative dreams
passing allusions
intermingle
with enigmatic thoughts
a transient sense
of the present
mutli-layered
broken
syntax
in semantic
ambiguity
now resolved
innovative
coherence
now apparent
in
folios
of verse
FOLIOS
to
communicate
a considered
matter
for consideration
&
initially
suggest
an existence
for inclusion
as an
illustration
distracted
after
exceptional
initial
enthusiasm
to
show
&
eventually
submit
as
a focus
develops
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
In brokered spaces hangs a clammy chill
That gawkers with heightened senses distill
With stealth, guile, avarice and pawned skill
Around unsuspecting celebs their viruses congeal
Intimate and carefree moments quarantined in a still
Tendered seconds stolen by each, maverick shill
Plundered with a ravenous, rapacious thrill
Each grainy visage paying the stalker's, truant bill
Malleable fodder placed in the public's, greedy til
Enhanced images on glossy folios to spill
Their frothing rumor mill with innuendo to swill
The public's license with more greed to instill
Anesthetizing emotive strains with wanton zeal