Long Four Poems
Long Four Poems. Below are the most popular long Four by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Four poems by poem length and keyword.
Excitement is brewing for the play-off game,
who to claim a podium close-up fame,
winner of 2018 21st FIFA World Cup's name.
Scheduling and planning their dream
to cheer on their favorite team.
Fans at the game watching united,
dressed in their lucky sports team attire, delighted,
cold, getting rained on, and excited.
Television armchair football enthusiast
muttering, "C-o-o-l call. Revenge at last."
He follows every move, wishing he was there,
but at home watching on his big screen, a bear.
Everyone in the stadium is bouncing off the walls,
inspiring cheers and rants, raves and calls.
While the Armchair enthusiast with his own calls,
within his walls his soul appalls.
The hero standing in the middle of a melee, with a thin
breeze around the football field, using a Cruyff Turn spin,
then brilliantly threading the ball home winning
the World Cup for his country. It’s only the beginning.
6/25/2018
The championship has been awarded every four years since the inaugural tournament in 1930 for except in 1942 and 1946 when it was not held because of the Second World War, a global war that lasted from 1939 to 1945.
Poetry Contest: 2018 World Cup
Sponsored By: Mark Toney
At conception, the point of his earthly beginning inside his mother's womb, there was a light, the likes of which he had not seen until now at the point of his death. He shared with me that he had lived 85 years on earth until his demise two months ago. As he thought upon the light, he remembered that the light was not as bright as the light at his conception. That is to say, he believes when he really dies, there will be an identical light like the one he saw when he was being conceived.
I was privileged to listen and record his most remarkable story of how he died, went to heaven, and returned to tell his story. His sojourn there was a total of some 60 seconds. But if a thousand years is one day*, we are talking a heavenly timeframe of far more than 60 seconds. A brief estimate and some calculations explain why he tells me that he was in heaven long enough to visit a number of deceased loved ones, friends, and Biblical characters. For example, he met the young boy who provided the bread and fish Jesus used to feed 5,000 people. He had always been overwhelmed with the unselfishness displayed by the young lad and his willingness to be a tool for Christ in the performance of one of the world's greatest miracles. The lad never sought recognition.
He told me about a grandfather from four generations back whose name his family was never able to produce. He had suspected it to be a Bible name because his great grandfather's name was Daniel. He was right because he met him in heaven, and his name was Jeremiah. He was so happy as he told me about the family members he met. There were so many people to meet and so much beauty surrounding the entire scenery. He wanted to stay, but the angel informed him that God simply wanted to give him a taste of his future. For now, it was not his time, because his earthly mission and purpose were not completed.
So now, at 85, he's anticipating that exit light which will be there in all its splendor at his demise, he is content to live until his mission is completed.
100118PoSoupContest, Fiction Write, Broken Wings *2 Peter 3:8; Calculations are not meant to be accurate
Time to put our clocks back
Means we lose an hours daylight
So at 4 pm the sun goes down
As daytime turns into our night
Springing forward or falling back
Whose crazy idea was it to do that
In spring we lose an hours sleep
In fall an hour’s sleep we keep
The disadvantages of this
Means precious daylight hours are missed
On the dot of half past four
The sky goes dark, daylight no more
On rising it is still pitch black
Oh please do send our daytime back
Till then I have no other choice
Must hibernate till spring
As daylight returns oh how I rejoice
and from the rafters I sing...
Contest A Brian Strand Rhyme
Sponsor Brian Strand
Written 23rd October 2018
It was semi-dark in her
kitchen and late at night,
When Panagiota fell to the
floor, with both legs in flight.
On her right hip, she landed
so terribly hard!
Alas, getting up, was not to
be!
She crawled like a lobster from
kitchen to living room.
Far from merrily!
I won't even mention the words
she said,
As it might turn your face,
crimson red.
To the phone she was headed,
an ambulance was needed.
Surgery was done, huge pins
were inserted.
In rehab, oy! How she loathed
each minute!
Her desire to leave was so
profoundly escalated.
She had to learn to walk all
over again.
Her mind set was, " I am
going to win this one."
Four stairs were like going to trek
to the top of Mount Kiliminjaro!
But she exhibited humor
and extreme bravado.
Her grandson, Prince Edward,
came to visit!
With these timely words...
" I told you to get an Alert Button!"
Ah, those warning words~
ignored, yet so divinely explicit!
...........
* original title was hip hip hooray
PS ~ this is a true story that happened 4 years ago
June 21, 2019
8am PST
Some guys are cut out for retirement
That certainly doesn't apply to me
If I had my druthers, I'd still be working
This is surely not my cup of tea
Used to be such an active fellow
Was hard at work twenty-four seven
Up until virtually all hours of the night
Now I'm lucky if I make it past eleven
This poetry site is my saving grace
Without it, I'd surely go berserk
Well maybe that's overstating my case
But you get it, I thrive on work
Perhaps there's a big surprise in store
I'll inherit a million big ones
From a distant long lost cousin of mine
Seems I'm getting a little too much sun!
Since time immemorial, or so I've heared,
Mankind has struggled to tame his beard.
Was it Adam who imposed upon us this atrocious curse?
(I reckon I could sport a beard but to that I am averse.)
I've scraped and nicked my mug fer nigh on four-score years,
So I will share my shaving experience to educate my peers.
First, splash a generous supply of soapy water on yer kisser,
So as to arouse the attention of each and every whisker.
Apply a liberal amount of Burma Shave to ease the stress,
When with that wicked razor blade yer jowls you do caress.
Twist yer schnoz at an acute angle in order to shave below the nose,
Taking care not to nick yer double chins and any problems that may pose.
Once this onerous task is done, use toilet tissue to heal the bloody nicks,
Then apply a liberal amount of Old Spice to really impress the chicks!
(I must confess that I use an electric shaver to mow my intractable stubble.
'Tis so much smoother on my leathery hide and sure is a lot less trouble!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Two young nudists went to lie down and bask
Along came a cop who took them to task
Thought they broken the law
For basking in the raw
Then the cop said" you're not wearing face masks"...
The nudists thought it was some kind of jest
Both cursed the cop and started to protest
Reinforcements were called
The nudists were appalled
When they were charged and placed under arrest...
They were both before the judge the next day
To the young nudists he had this to say
"Maskless face is a crime
So you will both do time"
They got four years and were taken away...
And two more from Belle Bellevue
Wonder if the cop's prudish or a creep
Who just couldn't resist taking a sly peep
Was the mask excuse
To get a good view
Does he count naturists when he can't sleep.
Four years is too long for not wearing masks
Who the devil pays their keep one might ask
We all well know who
It's us, me and you
Free bed and board, it's not bad for a bask.
Written 15th August 2021
PRETTY BIRD
The four toned bird on the shiniest branch
in the forest somewhere, its short brown tail
touching the tree while looking ahead from the
spot and the water runs beneath it
The forest is covered in various kinds of leaves
surrounding the bird with four colors its blue head
blending with its body of three colors especially with
the light hiding its dark little beak
The branch and the water glitter under the bird’s feet and
the water flows with the fall breeze appearing to be numerous
shades of blue while the bird lets its thoughts drift thinking about
where to go next – perhaps some place new
The pretty bird’s family name is Bunting and even though travel
Is both far and near there are still many destinations to which it has
never been – its small body never feeling like tin nor does it drink
gin and hang around bins- one of the many sounds it longs for is,
“Pretty Bird”
Beatlemania (The Fab Four As Lovers)
Once a choir boy, John turned to romance,
Fell for Yoko almost at first glance.
In full public view
In bed with her too -
Showed the world how to “give peace a chance.”
Quiet George played much more than guitar.
Lost his wife to another rock star.
Layla left him because
Of how hung up he was
On the music he made with his sitar!
Ringo acted in “Caveman” and met
His wife Barb (once a Bond girl) on set.
Though the film of this drummer
Was dumber than dumber,
Wise in love, he’s not left his Barb yet!
A heart breaker, Paul left Wife "One"
For Linda, and made her a vegan!
On their farm smoking pot,
They made money (a LOT)!
He’s a genius whose life sure seems fun!
written Oct. 13, 2013 for the BeatleMania Contest of
Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
I
I’m leaving today on a promise back to you,
leaving my lonesome blues forever,
and nigh O God is the power and the glory
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
II
Waiting for me breathes my own true love,
someone to see through my blether.
I will follow in your footsteps to your door
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
III
I walk its paths of silent sorrow in a dream
or real, alas I know not whether.
The shuffle in my step is a long time coming
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
IV
With lonely weary heart I’ve mused on she
and the mythology of us together.
If only to find I would walk the farthest mile
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
V
I’m off, my love, where the four winds blow
to journey among birds of a feather,
and girl, wherever I go I know I’ll get there
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VI
How sweet it is, her shining red lips on mine
whose heart with mine does tether.
Come to me, my lovely, before it’s too late
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VII
When my epitaph fades in the darkest night
and words unsaid are buried nether,
pray call out my name and promise bury me
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VIII
So, girl, feel my breath upon your cheek
in gentle winds and stormy weather.
Yes, there is something to remember me by -
my Spanish boots of Spanish leather!
Written: April 1997