Long Hubs Poems
Long Hubs Poems. Below are the most popular long Hubs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hubs poems by poem length and keyword.
My most favorite season of them all
is autumn, although some call it fall.
A kaleidoscope of such colorful leaves,
drift from trees on an autumnal breeze.
Leaves of ginger, ochre and fiery red
twirl in the air, and land on my head.
As we walk in the glen I cannot resist
kicking the leaves - hubs tells me to desist!
The biting wind has chilled us through,
so we amble home to eat warming stew.
Fall brings shorter days and longer nights,
snuggling by firelight’s one of falls delights!
Autumn-Fall Rhyme Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
09/12/20
Nature's tit- bits!
Gentle droplets of rain
on the colocasia leaves
slide like glossy silver grain
wish these pearls my palm receives
and I weave them into a chain!
A black-pepper vine
climbs round the coconut palm
saying 'am yours and you mine
wish this obsession to my heart embalm!
and me in my love -life assign!
In the moist soil take shelter
black ants and the root-grubs
safe beneath the damp leaf litter
My heart seeks refuge in such secure hubs
and wish my life with deep trust glitter!
A squirrel burries the nuts in soil
leaves there to sprout as it forgets
Trees do come up as bad weather foil
wish I plant in my life such goodness
and let sweetness in others' life uncoil !
© Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
Nice sum
ho-hum
Figures
triggers
transfer
defer
Strict loan
bemoan
Invest
divest
credit
debit
Tax break
intake
Pay in
smart pin
Pay out
for nowt
Encash
that’s flash
Mortgage
bondage
Wage freeze
on knees
Account
discount
Trader
with flair
Bonus
focus
Crossed cheque
ink fleck
Price hike
dislike
Bank app
just tap
Bankrupt
disrupt
Assets
facets
Bullish
flourish
Bearish
finish
Blue chip
shrewd tip
Savings
cravings
Broker
joker
Launder
flounder
Money
sunny
Offshore
of lore
wealthy
healthy
Lodgement
judgement
Finance
by chance
Stocks crash
mad dash
Target
market
Angel
gainful
hubs thrive
survive
Team leader Renee peered out
of her faux gold window around a pulsing Friday noon.
“Almost like we’re puppets of each other down there.
Maybe everywhere?”
Albert, her partner and co-worker were apt to look down on the buzz where their joint venture, their central office, was located.
Quite often hoards of people of all age groups hung out, shrieked with joy, abandon, near the hazy plume cafe.
They were snacking and sharing purchases.
There was rainbow signage to the left of this group promoting all the companies within Renee, and Albert’s brief.
The name of their company was Hereafter Unlimited.
Close and “trustworthy” friends formed this postgraduate 7 person cluster which later evolved into quite a
mind-bogglingly complex concern.
Hair-raising hubs were hatched.
Geniuses one and all created one matrix after another of sequential self-financing companies.
Ideas among them spread like avalanches.
Songs and puns were sung.
They had “flames” or “wildfire” intensity at their fingertips.
They were at the mercy of their own brilliance.
Their aim was to bring countryside joys into every nook and cranny in their chosen capital.
There were bookstores, clubs, restaurants and other outlets named after the multifaceted rustic charms that obsessed them.
Each outlet had a communal dining area to draw in clientele.
The underlying idea behind all these shops, stores, stations
was to have a magnetic pull.
Havens, an escape hatch that would leave an out of this world impression on the visitor.
From energetic background music to kaleidoscopic screens, to elaborately sculpted tables, mahogany tint chairs, azure blue halo moon menus, kid zones in high jinx.
Cascade after cascade of hue swirls in tandem with jubilant dance trope very much in evidence.
A magic merry go round motif underpinned each inventive hub.
Once savoured, never forgotten.
Festivity a frequent festoon, mouth watering smorgasbord without rein running riot.
The element of surprise, key and kernel to atmospheres that thrived on visionary continuum
Writing is my bold stroke coloured topographic passion,
that I warmly clasp with such boundless love,
whilst story-telling or in vibrant verse mode,
that novel gold plate medium for apt word transport,
one can effortlessly count on not to founder or malfunction,
when the mind is on that journey to dream enshrouded destination,
where emotional enrichment based on fountain jet outflow,
of luscious mood wave oozing from my ardent pen,
in tantalising tandem with diffuse metaphor so near,
the imagination my dedicated devotee divine,
together in a lifelong quintessential quest between ourselves,
and an augmented otherworldly picturesque brief to pursue,
in environment awash with transcendental jewel rim signposts,
day and night celestial enchantment on list for surreal lyric capture,
myself that earnest bard so awestruck by bewitching channels in stock,
affection has me in its Eiffel Tower grip,
as I endeavour to assemble, collate, synthesise gorgeous paragraphs,
to caress, bestow, display each tender visual encounter,
with my keyboard paintbrush dipped in multi-hue’d colloquialisms,
selective word search, ample phrase contingent,
enamoured idiom once coined,
hail the solemn spine bound reference book our voluminous assistant,
as I lavish fulsome praise on mountain peak upsweep at blue sky first light,
the sliver stream eddy on a green moss fleck rapid course,
a lowing cow whose hoofs depress the lush emerald paddock,
but one must not pretermit or abandon urban features as a source well,
with their fragrant coffee docks, that aroma as it wafts,
taste bud gourmet slices, a conversation magnet,
extolled in drama and music concert hall,
innovation hubs for one whose gift is investment with flare,
the hectic noisy streets at sunrise, fascinating footpath echo,
monuments aplenty to enthuse the scholar,
that building with an enigmatic past a sacred tomb,
wry jocose folklore of vocal city dweller in circulation,
lest we forget the mythic nightlife whose moonlit shadow cast a bouncy play,
on a final note the arch romantic down inside me turns to feelings,
oh how my heart pumps and pulses as I endeavour to sculpt touching lines,
in letters, cards, messages at christmas, Easter, birthdays, anniversaries where thoughtfulness counts,
writing , I adore you!
Its 9'30 monday morning U K time the skies around London are the
Grey of grime.' Its like in the evening', a somber scene i
Think its taken from 'middle earths book' the fellowship of
The ring.? As by mechanical means the sky is sown.' To
Drown us in gloom, these clouds are grown.' To deny real
Life..To cause the farmers strife.' I consider only sad beings, could envisage and plan such an innings' closing
Churches and pubs.' Which don.'t need the pre-fix of hubs.'
Yet there is great capicity in humanity..' innate intelligence
That will counter insanity.' Dr evil and the devil bankers real Sickos.' Can only be the answer.' May the evil curse of
Pathogens enter into them and cover them, may no rest be given
Ever.' to these cretins of wicked endeavours.' May they be
Soundly mocked and forsaken. May their very presence of mind
Be taken.' May every sickness be their portion.' May they
Be a lesson of morality and cause repair.' So to the Bible
Many will hearken to avoid their own souls being darkened.'
Heads spinning around and round,
Truth no longer first thing that springs to mind.
Integrity hanging on by a thread, as spin takes it out of orbit,
Trust buckled in for a bumpy ride.
Empathy losing ground to spin.
Lovers struggling to hold their partners,
As spin gets ever more vicious.
Spin on sex confusing all,
With dollars at forefront.
Hate moving into overdrive.
Apathy preventing breaks being applied.
Food for thought all spun out,
Fruits of labour spinning off centre.
Few friendships surviving the spin.
Only mountain goats sure footed.
Advertising with no restrictions on spin.
Children strapped to computers,
Inventing new ways to spin.
Families falling against the spin,
As parents practice spinning apart.
Schools spinning on new hubs.
Spin a constant danger to politicians carrying swords.
Voters either casting votes for top spin,
Or choosing not to vote,
Bowing to the no point spin.
Reporters who check for spin losing their bi-lines.
Robots replacing workers slow to spin,
Billionaires protected by a freshly spun cloud.
Books online getting story adjusted to suit new spin.
Drugs and alcohol paying spin undue respect.
Violence now out spinning peace.
Is it too late to take up tennis or cricket?
To take some spin off the top,
Giving hope and grace some time,
With spin doctors in Christmas Past,
Where tops spun true and goodwill was all we had in mind.
Once I had a bicycle,
A loving present from my grandfather;
Since I was his favorite granddaughter,
He granted my wish at a snap of my finger .
Since he was so old,
A new bicycle he could hardly afford;
He took his bike when he was young,
Which I found it once at the back of our barn.
As far as I remember,
It was really so old and rugged;
But my grandpa was like Mr. Mac-Gyber,
Amazingly fixing all things all-over.
My granda was a well-known painter,
I thought he will repaint and use sandpapers;
When I surreptitiously sneaked into his hut,
He was there recycling all my milk cans.
When everything was done,
He gladly gave it to me with a big hug;
I hurriedly drove it at once,
Down the street and field with so much fun.
“My bike was real a unique one!” I thought.
So different from others in our neighborhood,
Its wailing siren was made up of a cow’s horn,
Tubes were made of dried bamboos and corn.
Other parts were still the same,
Like forks, hubs and chainwheel set,
The rest were made up of my milk cans,
They were pedal, brake and seatgear stem.
Handle bars were what I liked most,
Converted from the handle of his old plow;
So sturdy and so strong all I knew,
And I can drive it so long in full control.
However, when I travelled quite afar,
Parts were falling one at a time;
Until everything suddenly split apart,
Eventually it dropped and rolled me down.
©2012Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Date: Aug. 3, 2012
4th Place Winner (My Very First Winning Poem)
Contest: Any Poem of the Week Contest
Contest Judged: 8/4/12
Poet Sponsor: Secret
Dubai, a marvel nestled between nature's grandeur and technological prowess, enchants with its mesmerizing beauty. Skyscrapers reach for the heavens, their sleek forms kissing the azure sky.
Once tranquil fishing villages along the Arabian Gulf, now bustling hubs of life, Dubai boasts floating and soaring structures, embodying modernity's spirit.
From the curved grace of the Cayan Tower pulsating in the city's heart to the majestic embrace of the Emirates Towers, and the opulent silhouette of the Burj Al Arab, Dubai is a captivating sight.
Its beauty, a seamless fusion of human endeavor and natural splendor, transcends cosmetics, radiating from its gleaming visage, a testament to innovation and harmony.
Varying tactics to deftest tongues,
I find it a futile taxing of tired lungs;
She hears finer tropes with disdain,
And loves lips that deal daring pain.
For fibs she sworn truths exchanged;
At once dazzled by such fiddly verbs
As paint fabled shades of gilded gold,
And cozy castles agleam in airy hubs.
When I say our love shall solidly dwell
Upon fidelity's firm bed of pure candor,
Smooth-tipped rivals juicier idioms tell
Of better treats and fairy Idylls grander.
To blur by guiles and gimmicks worse
Pledged long kiss on meadows green,
Feisty adversaries yet shameless vow
To garnish her with blues' fairest stars.
She in wind-chasing fantasies shuns
Her sincere love to fall for fizzy puns.