Long Grammar Poems

Long Grammar Poems. Below are the most popular long Grammar by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grammar poems by poem length and keyword.


Broken Antenna

—Receiving Before Language—



The roof retained it—

a weather-anointed dereliction,

its articulate wreckage
still ascending
through the firmamental grammar
of unanswering air.

The neighbourhood,
custodians of decipherable things,
declared it obsolete.

They trusted only
those frequencies
already domesticated by speech,

signals
that arrived
having survived interpretation.

Toward vesper,

the wind uncodiced
its invisible leaves,

and the antenna commenced
its liturgy

of immaculate static.

Not absence.

Ante-language.

The unconscripted province
from which utterance
would one day recruit
its alphabet.

Then,

without announcement,

the impossible
altered jurisdiction.

No transmission descended.

Instead,

there accumulated

every sentence
creation had declined

before consenting
to become pronounceable.

Primeval bereavement—

antecedent
to water's apprenticeship
as tears.

An inaugural horizon,

before distance
persuaded luminosity
to undertake pilgrimage.

The first appellation,

waiting

for a mortal object

equal

to inheriting it.

Above,

the constellations
did not illumine.

They precipitated

around attention itself,

as though every star

were merely

listening

after acquiring visibility.

Even darkness

remained provisional—

an erased manuscript

whose vanished text

continued
to illuminate the page.

Only then

did I perceive

that static
had never interrupted meaning.

Meaning

had interrupted static.

Reality
had first arrived

grammarless.

Language,

with impeccable intentions,

had reduced it

to comprehension.

Morning

ratified the customary horizon.

Someone,
glancing upward,

pronounced
its earthly verdict.

"Broken."

The syllables
approached the metal,

hesitated,

and returned

unadmitted.

The antenna remained,

its fracture

keeping vigil

at the frontier

where the cosmos

still rehearsed itself

before consenting

to become

the world.


Move Over

hola sh!t!
who are YOU?
spanky girl
in thigh high
boots! whoah!
shadow long
disguised a form
petite in size
since the day
i was born
wHip! my lip
sticks out
and I pout
when I don’t
get what i want
Patient as
spit on a fire
and I come out
with intent
and desire
so move over…
gentlemen
it’s time to hire
something that works
cosmic my
Rogue.ish grammar
burped a turd
into propers
manners…
top robers
robbers of our hood
I’m a vent I said
and you’re the Marylin
with your panties all wet

I’m moving in
and taking over this place.



"...Marlin, it wasn't my club..."

"...look out, the ocean's mad..."
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Resisting The Repressing

Resisting The Repression

Competition between a brother and sister
Rendition of an eighties song all about how much he miss her 
War of attrition between two countries facing off without a resister
Ambition of an Olympian to only on race day end up with a blister

Loneliness creeping in before twightlight starts to break and linger 
Ghostliness of a past love coming back like a harbinger 
Cosiness of a warmth so engrained it lasts throughout the winter 
Holiness of a man ordained with the essence of God in his little finger 

Warning all who sit in comfort to stretch out beyond their horizons
Forming all the combinations but still required to sleep with the lights on 
Storming through the degradation of more arguments to be right on 
Mourning the loss of innocence as I’m forced to find a corner with which to fight from 

Objectification of a woman by a powerful CEO 
Rectification of a statement that would never have passed “go”
Unification of a people who they never wanted to know 
Stupefaction of a system that is only there for show 

Culmination of a problem as we sit behind screens in isolation 
Rumination of a mind inclined to introspective observations
Declaration of a manifesto by a twisted mass shooter caught before the devastation 
Aberration of the justice system as the innocent go without advocation

Sociopolitical violence everywhere you hate to look
Hypercritical eyes inside my silence as they analyse a new controversial book 
Parasitical environmental activists looking for the next media stunt to hook 
Neurotypical minds that are inclined to complain and then to sook

Elimination of the pain that resides in each passing new moment 
Annotation of the grammar as I consider the next component 
Liberation of a race that has lived under the rule of a tyrant 
Consideration of all the elements predicting the next inquirement 

Lamentation of the time that’s passed while reluctantly convalescing 
Fragmentation of a life that’s lost while psychologically regressing 
Cancellation of a genius comedian speaking the truth just like confessing 
Aberration at this cultural shift as I I’ll be resisting all this repressing 
The End Elizabeth Moroz copyright
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Looking Within

Be still, quiet for quietness enhances your awareness of your being,
whatever life means to you and maybe, discover your purpose in life. 

                          ~~~    Quote by Poet    ~~~


                                  LOOKING WITHIN

There are times when everything seem so out of control,
times when you feel restrained, trapped, chaffed, suffocated 
and deep down you are resisting, fighting against these ill feelings,
trying so hard to withstand, not let the situations affect you.

The times when there are so many things in your mind, like
you’re going out of your head for answers, to do or not to do,
to say or not say, to stay or to go and you’re way over your head
feeling so lost, uncertain, unable to face head on or let go.

That is when I want to run and stay by the sea to CALM me down.
Where I find it PEACEFUL  for the sound of the waves relaxes me, 
like a lullaby soothing me to be STILL, QUIET and gazing at the horizon
makes me a TRANQUIL or a SERENE person to be able to think logically.

I am able to clear and free my mind to find the answers or to discern
and perceive insights, perspectives to make a sound or reasonable decision.
Yes, looking within, to look inside my inner thoughts, to figure out what
I think, feel, say and do affect my life and others I love and care about.


5/11/21     Writing Prompt - Calm - Poetry
                 Constance La France

Used:        PS Grammar Checker       
Highlight:  CAPITALIZATION

Premium Member Lonely

“Love is the one size that fits all ~
Feel it within, as a bliss squall”
~ quote by poet


Stooped stance, plunged into deep despair
Searching for souls with whom to pair
Our heart contracts, we feel not whole
Angst and anguish too deep to bear

Even as dark fear forms patrol
We search for joy scriptures extol
Oh, to feel vibrant whilst alone
Bliss in permanence, our life’s goal

That we may come into our own 
Thoughts we nurture, we need to hone
Notice head and heart stand apart 
Sins of past we need to atone

On choosing to add love to cart
Living in the now, fears depart
No longer despondent and terse
Each breath we take, marks a fresh start

As joyous presence sings love’s verse 
Our muse has no need to rehearse
We are as we are, bliss replete
Connected with the universe

15-March-2023
____________

Writing Challenge - 'L' Words - Poetry Contest 
Sponsor: Constance La France 

HMS, Rhymezone, PS Grammar
Form: Rubaiyat


My Deepest Hatred

My Deepest Hatred

I hate you
Honestly, I cannot stand looking at you
You have become a pain in my ass
You don’t listen to me
You do whatever you want to do
Whenever you want to do it
You destroy my life
My work and my soul
I am so sorry we ever met
True, we have been close for so long
You have been my best friend
Ever since the moment you came into my life
Now, I would love to get rid of you
Throw you in the trash where you belong
Get you out of my life
I want to once again play games with you
Share my poetry and stories with you
To spend so many hours looking at funny cat videos
But, that time is over
Your keyboard doesn’t work the way it should
You mousepad is totally brain damaged
And even your grammar check doesn’t work
I am tired of you and Best Buy is having a sale
So you are gone
Left out on the stairs so someone else can have you
Maybe you’ll behave for them
All the while I play with my new best friend
A two terabyte angel
With a nineteen inch screen
And a wireless keyboard
I could say that I will miss you, but I won’t
So all I will say is goodbye
And you will be gone
Your battery will be dead
But you will not be mine
So, I couldn’t care less.

Premium Member Self Critic

I  remember  when  your  voice  was  my  mother's,
              measured   cadences   at   the   mirror,   adjusting
           my   collar,   smoothing   unruly   hair.   Now   you've
        burrowed   deeper   than   her   inflection,   nested   in
      the   soft   matter   where   I   conjugate   inadequacy
    like   a   second   language,   fluent   in   the   grammar
  of   not   enough.   You've   made   a   home   between
synapses,   furnished   it   with   decades   of   almost,
  a   museum   of   moments   I   should   have   said
    something   sharper,   stood   straighter,   been
      more.   Some   nights   I   hear   the   echo
        of   that   first   voice gentler,   trying
           to   protect   me   from   the   world's
              sharp   edges.   But   you've   honed
                 yourself   on   them   instead,
                        become   blade
                              more
                               than
                              shield.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member A Future Planet, Waiting

A Future Planet, Waiting
Beyond the patient grammar of our skies,
past maps that end in hesitant ellipses,
there turns a planet without a name,
only coordinates whispered in cold light.

It keeps its distance like a thoughtful stranger.

Its dawn is not our dawn,
yet something in its glow resembles welcome,
a copper horizon breathing mist,
oceans folding like quiet blue silk,
continents shaped as if memory had a hand in them.

No footsteps there,
only the long rehearsal of wind over stone,
valleys learning the language of shadows,
and rivers writing letters no one has opened.

Still, it prepares.

Clouds gather with a kind of intention,
rain falls as though practicing tenderness,
and seeds, if they are seeds,
wait inside the dark with ancient patience.

One day, perhaps,
a fragile vessel will cross the black miles,
carrying lungs full of borrowed air,
carrying eyes that have known loss and wonder.

We will arrive not as conquerors,
or so we will promise,
but as listeners at the edge of a new story,
placing our small, uncertain weight,
upon a ground that has never known us.

And the planet,
this quiet, unclaimed breath of the universe,
will not greet us with words.

Only with sky.
Only with silence wide enough
to hold our hope.

And in that silence,
we may finally hear
how young we are.
© Jay Narain  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Dark Night of the Soul

Dark night of the soul
questions our life role.
Echoes return not;
our heart is fear fraught.

Plateau after peak
is what makes us weak.
Plunged in an abyss,
we feel not God’s bliss.

Having been and seen
heaven’s pastures green,
outer world mundane
now drives us insane.

We’ve been there, done that
but now the curve’s flat,
so our heart contracts
as God’s light retracts.

How may we begin,
feeling thus hemmed in,
unable to pair,
as darkens despair?

Adding to our woes,
nobody else knows,
what we’re going through,
bereft of bliss dew.

Burden of love’s loss
is a heavy cross
we carry alone;
soul stripped to the bone.

03-August-2022

Notes: https://lonerwolf.com/the-dark-night-of-the-soul/

HMS, Rhymezone, PS Grammar

Strong Emotions Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet

Emotions: Despair, Fear
Form: Jueju

Embroidery his 2nd home

Yesterday, at Maker Space, I completed
Embroidering the image of your second home,
And you were sitting in there alone.
I also added embroidery of the poem,
Titled 2024.7.29, the first poem I posted
The one being featured on the Poetry Soup home page once.
I also included a popular poem in foreign language,
Which formed the lyrics of a movie's theme.
It crossed my mind, 
How would you feel the minute you saw it?
If I was you, I treasured every meaningful item,
Especially if it directly related to me.
It depicted your image, from green beanie, 
Black and white stripe woolly scarf, khaki creamy jacket,
Blue jean and the runners of bright green soles colour. 
One day, when you have a chance
To read my poems on the Poetry Soup website
Please be kind to make some comments,
Have my memories served me well?
Except for the grammar, was there anything I wrote,
Was untrue or inaccurate?
It was hard to believe but it was true that
Honesty and keeping promises,
Were not the best policies,
In the current society.
I couldn't help it. It was me.
Can not help and can not change it.
© C33 B66  Create an image from this poem.

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