Long Guesswork Poems
Long Guesswork Poems. Below are the most popular long Guesswork by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Guesswork poems by poem length and keyword.
Mugged by the air
the day dreamed on
long past half-past nine.
A man who had suffered
not nearly as much as he should have
neatly folds his ego away
into a glass suitcase.
Taking no chances
he advances.
What actually happened next
had everything to do with glass suitcases,
but, as usual he guessed wrongly.
No connection betwixt one thing and another
was made
and so, what may have happened
failed entirely
to make its timely appearance.
It was five minutes past four
in the afternoon
before what did not happen,
finally showed up
panting and quite out of breath,
but by then,
neither he nor anyone else cared.
The Western world will breathe easier when Kim Jong Un
starts the denuclearization of North Korea.
And the Russian dictator Vladimir Putin gives
Ukraine back its lost peninsula of Crimea.
There will be celebrations worldwide when Israel
and Palestine stop the hate and settle their dispute.
And the constant threat of war is no longer looming,
for both nations' right to exist is deemed absolute.
The world will breathe easier when Bashar al-Assad
ends his civil war and finally leaves Syria.
And the militant Islamist group Boko Haram
stops raping girls and is driven from Nigeria.
Democracy will win when President Donald Trump
is exposed and reduced to a political quirk.
And global warming's threat is taken seriously,
so the fate of our planet is not left to guesswork.
(Quatrain)
June13, 2018
The so-called experts have been saying lately
There's a slow down in global warming
It's true, it hasn't been very tropical lately
Global warming is under performing
Do you think it's possible it just could be
A normal fluctuation in the world's temps
But who am I to offer this assessment
Why they're fluctuating to this extent
Could it possibly be the experts have it wrong
Oh forgive me for suggesting such a thing
After years and years in “forecasting” school
With diplomas under their wing
Weather forecasting is a lot of guesswork
Next to impossible to predict the future
There's so many variables to affect the outcome
Even with all those fancy computers
© Jack Ellison 2014
the world is random actualities
and
logic shapes of mind are the realities
direction of time is a probability constant
called
the omega of predictable possibilities
it is first and last with respect change
because
gambling by guesswork is of wide range
with chances of failure like walking on ice
its why
someone is chosen for the supervision off-ice
its best that controller have dedication to task
so
the march across time is not pure chance and risk
for that leader to do nothing and not pass the buck
means
they are in irrational self-denial running purely on luck
it is a con used by a child to escape doing a task
or
used by a bankruptcy fall guy whose job is to be last
self-denial is blindness to one's own inexpertise
just
a hidden way an ego does plead 'don't choose me again please'
stan sand
*Image of Couple Love Nature by Pixabay*
Splendor In The Grass
Humbly, I forage nigh the Irish springs,
In earnest quest of a four-leaf clover,
Augments my spirit a bit of luck brings,
A rainbow bridge where love can crossover.
Lucent fairies wand dreams magically,
As waxen clasped wick gifts a spark inflame,
Said be true interludes that passion be,
Deep within vessels for lovers to claim.
Moist arrow tips with a potion of lure,
Propel assuredly for patient hearts,
Pierce beating veins and ignite the amour,
Serenade a moonlit dance, hope imparts.
Guesswork fumbles in broad daylight splendors,
As nightfall conspire diverse stargazers.
2019 November 28
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND 1093
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 21
*3rd Place*
Love Me Like You Mean It
~~Julie Leigh Rodeheaver: Judged 2020 January 20
*HMS & RZ
THE TERRAIN OF ABSENCE
I think I've finally understood why distance makes
love tremble like a flame held in strangers' palms ~
it isn't distrust that shakes it, no, but that concrete lack,
a hunger for the body, for air breathed in the same room,
a territory of absence with maps drawn on water,
where your name is a city I can no longer touch.
When you're near, I learn you instinctively, the way skin learns rain:
the way you go quiet before saying something important,
the faint tremor in your voice, like a spider's thread in the wind,
the shadow that crosses your face when you remember something old,
the gestures you make without knowing you're making them ~
I know you through evidence, not guesswork, I hold you in context.
But distance leaves white spaces, clearings without footprints,
and the mind has this cruel habit of filling them
with whatever it finds in its darkest pockets:
with versions, with mistranslated silences, with scenarios
grown overnight like mushrooms in the basement of thought,
and every silence of yours becomes a room without a door.
That's why I believe closeness makes love more certain ~
not because distance would shrink the love itself, as people think,
but because presence gives certainty a body, bones, weight,
a breath that confirms, a hand that signs
everything the soul says and cannot prove over the phone;
truth needs a temperature in order to be believed.
When I can't see you, all I have left is to believe, and faith is beautiful
and dangerous in equal measure, like a glass bridge over fog,
because there, exactly there, in the gap between believing and knowing,
uncertainty builds its nest, that white and greedy bird
that pecks at night along the edges of your face
until what's left is a love built only out of memory.
Maybe that's why long-distance love is a cult without an altar,
a prayer spoken to a window that never answers back;
and yet I wait, the way a field waits for the snow it was promised,
I stitch my days to one another like unopened letters,
and I tell myself that one morning you'll simply walk through the door,
and all the white spaces will fill, all at once, with you.
I'm lost in there
battered between form and function
existing in the guesswork
institutionalised by containment
figured out on the block
measured by what takes up space
every layer perfectly in place
to provide freedom to conform
I merge and merge again
despite being part of no plan
unstoppable in my inexplicable existence
tip out my untapped potential
lay me on the table
busy yourself with dissection
broken up into components
I can do no more
cannot be put back together
an empty head
with no view of itself
an offered up cadaver
any day of the week
The so-called experts have been saying lately
There's a slow down in global warming
It's true, it hasn't been very tropical lately
Global warming is under performing
Do you think it's possible it just could be
A normal fluctuation in the world's temps
But who am I to offer this assessment
Why they're fluctuating to this extent
Could it possibly be the experts have it wrong
Oh forgive me for suggesting such a thing
After years and years in “forecasting” school
With diplomas under their wing
Weather forecasting is a lot of guesswork
Next to impossible to predict the future
There's so many variables to affect the outcome
Even with all those fancy computers
*"A tribute to "Pops" (Joe), (04/23/31-01/20/24) though what pans below mirrored life in the States for me, not Pops, but for two years at The Home before he passed, I'd drank tea cause he's unable to have strong or spicy etc. Once a month, though the last few months I drank alone. It was something that he shared, for you Pops." ... by Poet
'Twas a relatively crispiness in the clambering yawn,
a consortium of sorts setting up right across the lawn,
as duskiness drew up her covers relinquishing the day,
embossed intricately recently polished grace silver tray,
atop bears a quaint setting of Old Country Royal Alberts,
ah, yes, tea cups, dually statured and ushering desserts,
if you would please pour just a cup for me, for as you can see,
my 'friend's asleep at the wheel, engine's off, eve doesn't agree,
a host to vividness terms of circumstance circulated,
guesswork nature that entertains the uncoordinated,
the fumbling hands placed to the left or right be it a catchphrase,
a righteous smile of approval amicably gifts it weighs,
astir Pekoe, instants an intrusive bay fronts pleasantries,
prompts us of our intimacy adds value to home's sea breeze,
a nose full of redolent tea defines memories of us,
of times he drove us to school, then to doctors, still drives the bus,
a nodding gesture non flirtatious enthusiasm rises,
occasions an exceeding specialized intrigue comprises,
be a tea for two, Broadway Avenue, a smothered venue,
food cart with mixed tarts, lined signs of sweet kinds, beseeches of you,
I and my friend, who sleeps now and then, had two cups of Pekoe,
tea for my friend, it's not Pekoe, health-bot boy, it's Almond Joy,
'tis a pleasure, airs like a loon, trends sans measure, depth crescent moon,
he won't mind, he's sleeping--are you sure, yes, we're having friends soon,
they're here, ambulance? send them here--no rush, their skills aren't needed.
He felt his life poor--driving, "Pops, we made it--you succeeded."
A - rresting beneath dancing fingered fronds palming zephyr's touch.
B - each building sand castles throughout dawning sunlight.
C - rumbling granules of fate in the noonday sun.
D - esigns creating a new look ashore.
E - diting newly fallen sands.
F - ace swells and thins between surges.
G - entle washing refreshens a former facial look.
H - eave water jams buildup.
I - nvigorating capturing look,
J - ubilance in its recapturing feel.
K - aleidoscopic of the whole breathtaking spectrum.
L - andscape of unequaled challenge beheld.
M - isshapen perfections quantified by redo.
N - ew prefaces the horizon offshore, an enigma.
O - ddity baffling amass guesswork pursues.
P - atterns of shapes, sizes, heights, and widths.
Q - uite illuminating factor as a timeline note the ever-increasing world.
R - esembling provocative changes and the required remedies
S - werving challenges the course 'twas laid.
T - ides are forever pushing the new breeds into towns.
U - ndulating wave actions stimulating factors of reawakening.
V - oluminous fills, and packs, until pressure buildup frees life.
W - aves of new life, seeking a better life, old-timers know-to-well.
X - enophiles - welcomed, no xenophobes on these beaches, just welcoming on land, inland, and to the other side.
Y - ielding prayers to our lord redeemer Jesus Christ.
Z - ones; all were notified that zones were a form of separation for easy processing, --that was all a fallacy. Families are to stay together, and friends are to stand nearby. Let the processing begin and for those who are waiting, you may take a number and go outside and truly enjoy our beaches. Aloha