Long Grouping Poems

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


Millennials Dont Know

Millennials standing most assured
need no knowledge of the war
Too evolved, won’t be anymore,
Yet lessons prevent they ignore

For war was long before their time
and now all are living fine
how or why not on their mind
assured all war is left behind 

Oh how dumb and naive they sit
refusing vision to help predict
unlearning our repeated habit
as though a choice to conflict 

See war is not always chosen
the survivors are not selected 
War is a need to oppose them 
Survive or naturally rejected

Every century, every place,
every grouping, every race,
every intention, every faith, 
war returns, war we face

And war will kill the ignorant
wipe them out so fast 
ignorance to war and,
it’ll be your last

You won’t evolve just follow circles
overtime repeat resurface 
think you’re clever, just a circus,
your attitude, your life, surplus

They who think they don’t need war
will perish and be no more
refusing know-how ignorant course
destined to lay dead on floors

See war is not what we want
but it is what we do
stop being a millennial pons
unintelligent and screwed
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Wright's Tavern, Afternoon

Grouping here to plan retreat, 
the redcoat officers smelled defeat: 
the boards complained beneath their feet, 
on entering Wright's Tavern. 

They game was up. They understood. 
All that remained was noise and blood, 
and limping back as best they could, 
the fifteen miles to Boston. 

Pungent smoke and powder smells, 
irregulars' derisive yells, 
and fifteen miles of living hell 
now stretching out before them. 

The King's Own's torn, depleted line, 
drawn up before Wright's tavern sign: 
this sight would come back to the mind 
in years to come, in England: 

But now, the urgency was such 
that no-one pondered very much 
on Tyrant George's loosened clutch: 
plans needed improvising. 

Back east the shattered remnants flowed, 
along the Cambridge Turnpike Road, 
to quit the New World for the Old: 
America was rising.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Identity of Race

Humanity has just a handful of races
Real, quantifiable genetic differences 
Based on evolutionary adaptation.
The rest of us are just a mix.

Not long ago you got bonus points
For “passing as white”
And now the bonus points come 
With being identified as a minority.

The ultimate way to classify us all
Would be through genetics.
So instead of a self identified
Or externally observable grouping

We’d get a number of percentage
Which would go into our digital ID.
This would be most accurate 
But also most absurd.

The alternative would be 
To finally get beyond race 
And simply call us, each,
A human.

(10/25/25)
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Vintage Retro Period

Vintage Retro Period


As for our periods of furniture–
not sure if Vintage Retro's one!
However, since I spanned so many years,
it seems to me this should be done!

My influence can still be seen in homes.
Some people often think it strange,
to cling to my old Vintage Retro look
and never want to make a change.

So pleased my unique period ruled well –
for thirty years I did endure!
My decades had a flavor of their own– 
so powerful was my allure!

My special time was dominated by
the colors green, orange, and gold;
Formica, Lucite, vinyl, walnut, chrome – 
outstanding – very sleek and bold.

My Vintage Retro period – well-loved 
by most – did fade away, its true.
Still Retro-furnished homes are so enjoyed
by visitors who get a view.

My long-remembered items bring a crowd
at Vintage Retro store displays! 
The prices paid are unbelievable –
so pleased I'm worth much more these days!

To prove my point, you might take time to see
the photo grouping up above!
My Vintage Retro gems still grace their home
forever more for them to love!


Sandra M. Haight

~First Place~
Contest: Punctuation Personified
             Theme: Period Furniture
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Judged: 10/06/2015

Note: Vintage Retro means actually made in '50s, '60s or '70s
The term Retro by itself can mean old but also newly made to look like old
Vintage Retro includes: Mid-Century, Mid-Century Modern, and Danish Modern styles

Improving

4/1/17

Flowers blooming
Spaced out or in a tight-knit grouping

All around things looming
In space objects still or moving and zooming

Birds pluming
And other animals grooming

Downloads queueing
Electronics in need of a rebooting
Or powering off, to enable cooling

Below, on and above the roofing
Toxins spewing
And other particulates polluting
Some of which are made for fueling

All weeds were removed by uprooting
Trees and bushes getting a pruning
Especially any areas that are drooping

There's just no excusing
You'd better stop snooping
And assuming

As well as tooting your horn
Or ridiculing the poor
What the hell are you fooling for
When deep down, you know you could be doing more

Ocean life caught by fishing poles, harpooning
Or cage using

Die hard fans rooting
Or booing

Times of booming
And continual losing

Certain insects and people cocooning

Humans continually feuding
Suing
And fuming
As if there is something they want to be proving

Major scale jobs, including
A lot of or very specific tooling

Drugs and alcohol others may be using
And possibly abusing

In the right conditions, water pooling
Near and far from any rocks protruding

Live a life of your choosing
Continue pursuing
Knowledge, and ways of improving
With or without musing

By: Dalton Ogletree
Form: Rhyme


Plastic Truth

There is little love here
We are all just giggling gossipers
Seeking praise from one another 
Why do I resonate with such plastic truth?
How can I empathize with an evil flaw?

We are all stupefied mortals
Strung in with the same strands of death 
And even if I wanted,
I can never set myself apart from that
Unifying fact "We all have issues"

Yeah, drag me in with your empty exhilarations 
Your grouping condensations 
Look me in the eye when you say it
Make it personal 
Make us all laugh
Make us all hide
But we cannot deny
It's a human thing
We are sorely universal

And there may be love to be found here
When we lay all these truths down
So smile on 
And sail the next one 
Onto the open sea
To sink alone.... Focus on the next 
So the other star seems less bright 
As you burn on just a little longer more 
Only to die in the same waters
In the same engulfment of reality 
When you know longer can speak
While some other unreliable fool
Tells your story 
To other loveless fools

October 16, 2018

The Angry and Swearing Poem

Target via advertising 
Stupid firms and stupid brands
Because such generalizing 
Does require intercept
For the influence of moron
For the psyches thus offense
Does perform defense the function
Very real thus defense

Maxwell color wheel invention
Wasn't meant for purpose this
Any act will have redemption
Suck it activism for peace

Hex my wheel is much more nicer
Isn't purposed for the firms
Neither chips or AI models
Eligible for the use, THUS DROP

No one alive is entitled
For ownership of this
For creating definitions
For your stupid quantum keys

Up your ******* shove your polynomial
Find your system in ruins
If the GAWD was up for nominal
Grouping units would be this

Saint neuron and thus saint atom
Saint Ski Wiper and Saint Flame
Real Cyber Force ain't phantom
Kate alone not all this say

I don't like your clone, the stupid
I don't like you stupid farms 
Phantasy is arch of cupid 
Says the very real ARMS

Every pair needs reapair
Every nail hammer demands 
Crates of screws, crates of potatoes 
Armed the forces is Supply

See how clever play I memory
Like the mouse with cat plays
Very special super system
Building Kate produced thus lays

Lays the basis 
FOUNDATION
Logic, ethics, levels, ranks
Ought to combat degradation
Cyber special pie the bakes

Department of Army deficiency
Departments of Government stall
So much for the moron efficiency
So much for the 





Because they use AI for fraud
Path does away from GAWD they trod 
But Military must produce the lie  
This wisdom knows each very clever spy
© Kate Kelly  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

This Week

*** THIS WEEK ***

(“If my doctor told me I had six minutes left to live, I wouldn’t 
brood.  I’d type a little faster.”  Isaac Asimov)

The sliced portions of this week
Collapsed, an almost eloquent fall
Into a slow-motion slide 
Of morsels
Then, still unnoticed, on into
The soft blue crystals of
This week’s ending — being
Merely a measure of the journey’s recipe
For this grouping of days — thus…
I now see their floating,
Their flour-misty cloud descending
Through a sieve Life quickly set
Over time’s mixing bowl, wishing
To gather anew 
A batter for next week’s
Offered cakes.

——————————————————————————————————-    
(c) sally young eslinger 5/19/22
With thanks to God

Let’s Make Great Britain British

Britishness was fairness 
Not bothered about race 
Jokes that didn’t careless 
taken with good grace 

We didn’t take it serious 
religion got a drilling 
there were no inferiors 
when there was derision 

everything was personal 
no grouping in together 
words were never worst of all 
a bantering endeavour 

people got all sensitive 
they were not integrated 
it would have prevented it 
now all we hear is hatred 

accusations and censorship 
from humour and free will 
well I say you should get a grip 
we don’t care how you feel 

Imported with these people 
a way that is not ours 
deport yourself it’s simple 
if words are giving scars 

we don’t need to make the great 
let’s make Great Britain British 
it takes care to discriminate 
you’re the victim of your image
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

I Know You

I KNOW YOU, you're me because I am you

I know in the dark when you think No one is watching, in your head you question  !! 
In feeble struggles your weak mind tries to remember, too bad its an unfit muscle!! You should have exercised it, you should have thought more!! 

I know you silently ask yourself:

"Where am I,
Who am I" No, you ask yourself
"Who am I really"

"Who can I ask? You silently ponder!!

Well you can't ask me and you can't ask us!!

Somewhere in time you lost yourself and you pretended to be a sheep and flocked along with the herd but now you're truly lost, 
You lost your individuality and now you don't know what you lost because self to you doesn't exist. you walk, look, act and talk like a flock, we can't tell you apart
So they too must be lost, they cannot guide you! so now you wonder who is herding, who is grouping you? Who is numbering you?

Could I be him? Maybe you're different, Do you think we're alike? 
Am I different or am I insane? If I'm normal then you're not

Somehow you long forgot where you misplaced your driving purpose, now the confused media is your driving deities.

Who where you before this world made you a number?
Before it programmed you all flock, fleet, herd and all prey to this disease of the mind, this insanity cloaked in normalcy

Does time mean anything to you, or are you too busy to listen?
what do you live for? 
For in shadow in the stead of you truly living you choose to simply exist.
Do you know where you're herded or you like just being so much that you flow with tide. You shall rue this precious time you wasted dilly-dallying

I know tomorrow you will not have lived nearly enough, you'll wake up depressed and think on giving up and wish for an end and when the end comes, I know you'll wish you had lived for what truly matters. 

We're not sheep, we need not be herded by men. Open your eyes see and believe , listen intently and truly hear to understand. Swallow this sour pill it is truth, its both bitter and sweeter than lies. Follow your heart ask for insight, use your mind, its a useful muscle, deeply breathe in today and make a vow to yourself to truly live.
Form:

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