Long Hance Poems
Long Hance Poems. Below are the most popular long Hance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hance poems by poem length and keyword.
frankly zapped after wildly oscillating
in tandem with seven bobble heads and ten French horns)
a devilish trumpeting event
by pre-Christian Celtic festival standards
with a “proto” Don twick or tweeting
like a Taj Mahal wonder of webbed, wide world scout
Samhain celebrated on nightfall of October 31
for bachanalia, candy corn, dreaded locks tot tout.
Now, the Celts I met lived 2,000 years ago
in the area now Ireland,
the United Kingdom and northern France,
believed that the dead,
cuz the underworld could not tolerate nor find stand
ding room, thus returned to earth on Samhain –
accessing a outdated map drawn by Rand McNally.
Though all roads leading to Rome,
would be millenniums as future did advance
but (mentioned for no particular rhyme nor reason)
only for discordant anachronism
Lewis Carroll took a tumble,
and neither fat nor slim chance,
would never find him completing Alice in Wonderland,
cuz quite an expanse
of centuries extant between his accidental slip
somewhere back in time at a glance
hence, he befell the same fate,
how Alice would never en hance
her life, yet the first stanza hailed
as powerful punch from grunting naked tribesman
with armstrong brandishing big lance
which phallic symbol extolled bare necessity,
and no need to wear seer sucker pants
even when inaugurating the ritual, including the verse
..."The time has come," the Walrus said
"To talk of ma ny things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."...
set the listeners in a trance
emptying coffers of bipedal feral simians to add vance
this yearly practice filling rucksacks
with berries, carrion and twigs.
Whether ya favor Golem, Hobgoblins, or Dybyk,
take pause buffer ja pour out massed goodies heck
enjoy satiating yar sweet tooth while still able to lick
every morsel of junk food afterwards a tooth pick
might be necessary to remove gobs that didst stick
analogous to tallow melted from candle wick.
Each subsequent process of cell division
i.e. mitosis sans biological parlance
erodes chromosomal cap re: telomere if u can envision
some juncture senescence prevails –
apoptosis no chance to prevent natural degradation
and one alternate decision opting to bail out
subsequent etching chronological age –
averse at a glance to mortal male, who decries death breed’s frisson.
Thus disallowing healthy end of life discussion
once tutu shed rescinding plenti more figurative song and dance routines
final curtain call closes existence, where grim reaper jeers with derision
at attempts to thwart cessation of mortality,
whereby scientists seek to en-hance longevity –
even exhuming the dead (or thawing deceased
from suspended animation) and experimenting
with nonanesthetic induced incision.
To rewind expired meter fostering demise after staying alive –
with lance a lot chock full of chemical concoctions (hatched at round table)
to revive corpse as ultimate mission.
Yet, any effort to transcend genetic bulwark engendered
from bulge in pants (that initially unleashes biological reproduction
viz zit head via seminal swimmer in tandem with merging ova)
based on advantageous coupling favored position,
ought not be tampered with
lest havoc t’will rent asunder ranting rabid quest per final course
since egg versus chic hen ala kin collision.
Inscribed within DNA blueprint from extinct cousins of uncles and aunts
prepping monster to burst from Ray Kurzweil laboratory
whereby to halt recalcitrant son or daughter spanning cradle to grave
invariably yields zombie, spells monstrous FRUITION!
Form:
I
Arose a rainbow from relinquis'd fiend,
And shines the scarlet where dyes erased,
Storms the tempest here as it was its grind:
Thus hidden is, no scour at which will rais'd.
II
And in vain I'll ask which pain I'll lose,
in the silent valley of ceased mourn,
where are the sorrows all one froze
and side the shadows a single urn.
III
Burns an hermit sun the geason land,
Through a nocturne hem of flame:
worns the holy heaven low in sand,
while the fatal course to pathless frame. ?
IV
Are you my vestiges enclos'd? I lorn;
while o'er the farewell sunrises hance;
and they are being bend'd in a turn:
it stares at those, whose eye is stance.
V
Ancient the faith, the offerings and lare,
Eternal slaves are them, a grave's realm;
The burial is the comet, and Death a star;
And clear the prophets sing a gaudy salm.
VI
Is blessed Soul, for life in strides is spent;
Elect thy road, man!, as you could not-
Thou never ride the course or hent;
But ever thou will shed thy root.
[first stanza for Planet contest]
Martians, they don’t live here
Even astronauts keep clear
Residing though in darkest places
Charred: the eyebrows on their faces
Up from underground they creep
Resembling small asbestos sheep
Yikes they bleat at red hot feet
*
Meat and veg are not prolific
Eat it if it’s calorific
Roast Mercurian rat... horrific
Chance a glance and risk the heat
Usually, not much to eat
Rare, the morsel overlooked
Yet what there is... is over cooked
***
Many miles through space to Venus
Earth is far more space between us
Risk those Martians haven’t seen us
Cruise by Jupiter and Saturn
Uranus ain't what you’re sat on
Rush past Neptune on to Pluto
Yup, a planet... shows what you know