Long Fringe Poems
Long Fringe Poems. Below are the most popular long Fringe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fringe poems by poem length and keyword.
Forgive me but I just don't understand
What drives “people” to enter a school
Massacre forty young people
And burn their female teacher alive
It's beyond my comprehension
How an intelligent caring human being
Can willingly commit this atrocity
There lies the crux of the matter
They are NOT “intelligent caring human beings”
They are EVIL MONSTERS... period!
They don't belong to the HUMAN race!
They are freaks of nature
An anomaly... deviates from normal human behavior
Who have a totally warped sense of right and wrong
The lunatic fringe... THAT MUST BE STOPPED
At all costs... this cannot continue
This is NOT a normal human condition
Civilized people can fathom the depth
That these sub-humans will go to
As with the absolute majority of peace loving individuals
I am appauled beyond belief
I would like to say I'm speechless
Which is obviously not the case... this site is a forum
To express our absolute and utter rage
When these deviants commit these atrocities
IT'S A TOTALLY DISGUSTING OUTRAGE!!!
(a previous post)
Industrious buzz of solo bee search jackpots
Unashamedly trial diving in each lurid shell
Stickier with every trumpet he giddily accosts
Finds further stupor in fluted sweet compel
Ruffled taffeta petals burn, vibrant five
Three wiggle flame fingered fringe
Other two tatooed with burgundy stripes
From lettuce pincushion, stigma begins
Sunray stamen sprawl in honey encomber
Moonstone luminous stems prop soft discs
Trajectory of butterfly nimbly discovers
Floating foliage furtively stows gifts
Dragon green bud shyly pokes firey tongue
Slender tailed specimen, paisley tadpoles
Wrinkled brain seed pod trio, stem strung
drop to dappled damp below leaf parasols
Peppery nutrients for permaculture novice
Exolosion rockets across neglected plots
Blue hued leaves store vitamins various
Simmering subdues mustard sting hot
Cultivator pleased by brazen ease of transplant
Straight on dirt section masts round flags raised
Twine's gems invite insect activity, gaity radiant
Vein laced faces sway atop secret paper blaze
26th July 2020
Written for Contest: 'Petal, buds, blossomd, bees,
birds, butterflies!'
Sponsored by:
Silent One
6/11/16
Close to or far from the Euphrates
Don't play me
Or be Fugazi
I'll send you back to Hades
I don't care to listen to Jay-Z
But in the future, maybe
Shout out to Slim Shady
And Kevin Spacey
It's not crazy
If you want a mercedes
Don't be lazy
Get after it daily
And increase your income greatly
Respect the ladies
We all started out as babies
Crawling around near plants and daisies
While the weather was below and above the eighties
Grew
Into
Kids
Some lived
Near a bridge
Atop or at the bottom of a ridge
And others were in the fringe
Occasionally off the grid
Not everywhere you could swim
Some of the waters did
Contain squid
And other lifeforms that hid
Make a mistake and it just might not forgive
Whether it's the current ,a storm or something with fins
Cartilage not skin
Many revolts
And lives taken by guns some models were colt
Eventually became adults
Different pathways and results
On either side of the Gulf
Some liked their juice with or without pulp
While others got involved with the occult
Trying to hide their mistakes in mulch
At the bottom of a gulch
While there was thunder and lightning bolts
By: Dalton Ogletree
The nebulous night lifts the onyx veil
up the crimson crown of the sky,
for the dawn to drizzle golden sequins
on the halcyon horizon,
paint purple the mauve meadow
for the dreaming dew drops
to create the lattice of luster,
where the harmonic hues dance
to the glitter of the garnet shine
of the saffron sun.
In the misty milepost
of the penultimate pathway,
at the intriguing fawn fringe
of the future obscure,
the tantalizing trellis of sunrise tinge
pulsates with dormant delight
of the forlorn tree transfixed,
silhouetted in tranquil trance
against the daybreak skyline
of transient romantic radiance,
witnessing the surreal show
of the fleeting first flash
of the sunburst day.
The satin shadow of cinnabar cloud melts,
graces my fluid face of fantasy,
making your hibernating heart feel
my sun-soaked love flows within
with the cadence of kaleidoscopic colors,
rippling through you with elegant elan.
Like a wet leaf drenched
by the shower of rhapsodic rain,
rinsed by the nascent sun’s glint,
you glow grandeur.
With the dawn of the dulcet day,
blushing with flowery flamboyance
at the edge of drifting darkness,
the ethereal sunrise spectrum
spins the solar strings
in the convoy of cloud turned violin.
It’s time for the beguiled birds
to leave their nostalgic nest,
ride on the resplendent rays
of the sliding scarlet sun.
They glide with avian concerto
on the wings of the whistling wind,
over the gilded wisps of cloud strings,
compose the symphony of the sunrise.
the seventies is my go-to decade
for it is when I was my cutest
and my three daughters were born
I looked terrific in my bell bottom jeans
the edge of them had rickrack and lace
I embroidered a happy face and flowers on her pockets
my go-to vest was loaded with fringe
I wore my hair long and messy; I felt wild and free
the music of the seventies was anti-war
Folk music of the Mamas and Papas
The Carol Burnett Show was marvelous
As was Barney Fife on Andy Griffith
Women did not have to wear make up
We could burn our bras, and we did
Helen Reddy wrote and sang “I am Woman”
It was a powerful time for us, especially me.
Squirrels darting, dead of night.
Vivid velvet curtains of mist indistinguishable from city fog adorned, a courageous jogger, Addison.
Marsh light mirage appeared to beckon to canvass of the mind
“I’ll find myself deep within one day or precisely one night.”
Addison, was a jogger who could be imagined by the most colourful imaginations.
A person who ran, jogged, sprinted with crystalline clear visions.
“Ironic, I must connect somehow in every environment.”
Her slim svelte surging figure aptly attired for a wetland plagued by a city scape of habitats.
Just on the fringe of a sizeable town entering a 2025 empowerment.
Yet she seemed ostracized for whatever
reason quaintly excluded.
“My issue seems that I have been evaluating all around me.”
Addison tribe, circles, connects were many.
Yet the dimensions of personal constellation etc would taunt a canvass painter.
Her sister, an accomplished painter appeared to be intimidated by her feisty sister’s midnight trekking or solo runs.
A ballooning complexity didn’t interfere with her job as a new age clairvoyant.
Allied to her other aura surrounding healing skills.
“But here I am channeling for everyone bar myself.”
This angel glow mystery of a runner
Her images reflect in mud spume pools.
The micro burn of fireflies, the crickets clucking incessantly.
Sinister birds perched on trees a watch tower.
“One thing can’t does is paint
Leave that to my twin sister.”
Addison did a swerve, a torsion but fortunately avoided any injury or strain
“Goodness, a black eagle winked at me.”
Addison to her said.
A ghostly gothic gust of wind with a shrill high pitch appears.
Like background music
A grey splattered sweat from Addison’s brow was wiped by her as continuum.
It was so therapeutic for Addison this weekly fly by night.
Damp, sprays, squelching, soggy patches prevailed.
“I can have it both ways.
I seem at home here.”
Addison wondering aloud.
What exactly were the somersaults in her mind?
The ecosystem seemed like an imprint.
Yet I dream of this incongruous dash.”
i see you again waiting for the man
dirty dollar bills crumpled in shaky hands
your veins would collapse if they weren't running sand
high risk life, low life demands
unaware with a vacant stare
of your surroundings, like you even care
there's only one reason as to why you're here
and it's not to admire yourself in cars passing mirrors
with the man running late the time ticks lunatic fringe
not knowing he's laying dead in some junkies den
the life style he lived finally did him in
and you with no idea will soon be following him
because the life of a junkie is no life at all
one step from the ledge with the needles drawl
milk blood to make sure you get it all
one last time before last call...
Sedum flourished beneath the holly bound
pale green succulent formed mounds
atop thick stems and leaves groomed
aside the roses now out of bloom,
where chrysanthemums began to bud and fill
the earthen browning ground displays upon the hills.
September days inched in, sun out of reach
summer suddenly at its ending peek
and green became a hue of rosy pink delights
calling hummingbirds and butterflies from flight
where scented fragrances faded with the winds
and autumn turned the leaves to yellowed orange fringe
Wild finches whistled thru the cloudy days
taking seeded coneflower treats away
while squirrel chatter reveled fighting steals
knowing winter comes with chilly lack of appeal
and each day ends with the sedum turning crimson red
and creatures large and small hunker down within their beds.
Through the dark opaque night
across the space of silence,
enfolding the landscape of existence,
barren of the beguiled essence of life,
I take the ordained journey forsaken,
for I have promises to keep,
but the track of travail across illusive time I lose
in the gloomy labyrinth of torment.
Trudging at the edge of my patience
I hear the whispering wind pass me by,
telling me this journey has no meaningful end.
I’m in the nebulous fold of uncertainty,
find the desolate soul in the grip of agony
and as I see the overcast sky crashing down,
I collect fortitude from the debris of hope,
pray for the healing touch of the almighty.
At the fringe of the fleeting forlorn moment,
glowing with the flash of the divine light,
illumining the span of the inner sky,
I see the new sun rise in heavenly splendor
on the hued horizon of salvation.
Its golden rays shine in the dark abyss within,
radiating the patina of God’s grace
I find reflected in the devout soul.
My prayer kindles the candle of God’s benevolence,
in its halo I see His supreme essence.
I’m blessed with this precious gift of God
for my total surrender with fervent devotion,
absorbing the corroding flow of my misery.
As I comprehend a new meaning of me,
I find the divine path open ahead,
showing the holy way to the sanctum of divinity.
December 31, 2021
Contest : My Significant 2021 Poem
Sponsor : Beata Agustin
FRINGE BENEFITS FOR WANTING WHAT I CAN NEVER HAVE
snaggletooth and lonely
hungering for hunger and boney
in my mind, wanting to love you only
when you pass by, i gurgle in honor of you
piss poor and destitute, my shrine of you expresses from a quiet
place on the downlow
hip hurting and shaking for foundations of my body heat, my thoughts of you leave me with sticky icicles
crying like a baby to the open diary of the moon, i daydream in zonules of rocketship anecdotes
i am a pinball wizard rolling caravans of wishful thinking around the many mazes that the stars create
then i pause....become blank....lose focus....become devoid of all thought
i sleep a stiffened steep sleep till morning
then i become the antisocial broken record again buying flowers for all my thoughts of you.....