Long Humanoids Poems
Long Humanoids Poems. Below are the most popular long Humanoids by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Humanoids poems by poem length and keyword.
A long those dark, dank corridors underneath the earth, an anomaly is growing.
N ebulous in it's beginnings, an as yet unknown species prepares to arise
E longated in it's skeletal structure, slight and slender, they slither about
W ily in nature, these unique elusive creatures are prone to evade the light.
S linking about at night with iridescent, bold bright eyes, they warily
P eek and peer at people, pacing about in dark, dreary alleyways
E xamining interactions, obsessed in their observations, in order to
C onnect and draw upon human energy, like sophisticated sponges.
I ntent on leeching the life force out of human beings, these humanoids wish to
E merge and spike world leaders' drinks with explosive laxatives, thus
S triking and stalling them on their "thrones", subsequently taking over our world!
Written on 2/23/2016
At minimum- we spend one-third of life
within a void, referred to as sound sleep;
a void that grants serenity or strife-
and waking up can make us smile or weep.
Where do we go when we shut tight our eyes
and fall into a deep, unconscious state;
set free into some mystic space- likewise,
a realm, where past and present, future wait?
Is there a timeline where our minds can see
the past- where memories again play on a stage;
or look ahead to all that's meant to be
encoded in a dream we cannot gauge?
We spend one-third of life in these vast voids-
set free into some mystic space- likewise,
as strange, unconscious, traveling, humanoids!
Where do we go when we shut tight our eyes?
August 6, 2021
Contest: your Favorite Rhyme Poem In August 2021
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
Holiday Dangers
by Odin Roark
‘Tis greater to give than receive,
Begging the question: “Of what?”
Stuff remains the easy answer,
Cloaked in its brightly colored paper and ribbons,
Urging “Oohs and Ahs” from receivers,
Few can resist .
But what of a kind gesture in place of goods,
The finding of compassion and sympathy for the truly less fortunate,
Exercising that ephemeral spark of humanity once primary,
But now rapidly becoming an endangered principal of our species.
Hope hangs on…
The aware heart knows,
Like much of nature,
Humanoids can’t last forever,
That gathering of a materialistic image,
Buttressing the seductive illusions of generosity,
Be they religious or secular,
Knows only an all-consuming downward spiral,
A self-destructive glitter that blinds
As it drills deeper into itself,
Disintegrating at the end
Into the loss of “caring”
Fate’s delivery to a wide-awake darkness.
How habitual these temporal leanings,
How belittling to what innate mankind once wished to be.
TOWERS OF MYSTERY
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘
Floundering, bit by bit, clawing my way to wisdom of ages,
The sands burn delicate membranes of my bones
I can go no further, maybe I will waste to die here...
Diving, way below past equinox of rolling ocean divide ,
I feel no weight of flesh, the abyss releases her grip.
What is this place?
A vast city, towers of myth’s silvery metal,
Yet I can see nothing but ocean from the height of every wall,
Can this be what I have sought in the fables of Atlantis?
Through my weakened eyes, armies gather in golden armor,
Meeting a horde of beings creeping from the very sea!
What could this be?
The crunch of their amphibian feet upon alabaster sands,
Filling the water bed with stench of decomposing debris
Emitting forth these creatures’ smell from her deepest bowels?
The air is violent, spitting with arrows, thick with screams,
The noble Atlantics are fighting for their very lives!
Can I be part of this?
The arrows and blast of sun- crystals pass right through me,
I feel nothing, damned by observing the fall of humanoids.
The crystal cannons of Atlantis' towers cannot hold them,
Leaving me to chill in an open ocean of mystery
As waters swallow a frontier once glorified by legend's magic...
Tell me, am I dead?
©
------------------------
Carolyn Devonshire: Unsolved Mysteries Contest
There in a galaxy and a land, far, far away
There are super Stars and super Humanoids
They playing baseball with hot plasma baseballs
Aliens are causing bright light luminous emanations:
These from their lightning light-saber laser like bats
A League of teams is fighting for their own home planet life
No one ever touches the ground over there
The only very strict rule is to keep walking on the atmosphere
The cleats used there are to be able to endlessly hover
Also, on their backs are super powerful gama-ray jetpacks
Home-runs there do cause volcanic catastrophic land shocks
To win is life with zeal, to lose is a demise and a death unseen
Somethings there are similar as here; these things to be pondered
Gerry Gigabyte, a robotic delight,
sat on a lab roof in morning’s light,
calculating earth’s current position;
amid the stars found a new addition.
His neuro-radar swiftly did detect,
upon it tiny moving carbon-based specks,
life forms that were humanoids,
he was surprised there were no androids.
This tiny planet of pepto-pink,
gave him pause to then rethink...
perhaps there are many earth-like planets
among the exoplanets and proto-planets?
After all there are many suns and moons
around which other planets grew;
still he hoped to find just one
that other robots may just run.
He’d love to visit and commune
with others whom he could be in tune;
this robot of unusual intellect
greatly craved an interstellar trek.
Oh shuttling through space was nice
though he preferred his very own kind;
the earthlings were an interesting lot,
still he preferred the company of other robots.
As morning wore on he calculated
as sun came up he was elated!
Detecting binary messages now;
there were other robots, holy cow!
So he formulated a clever plan
and it was ever oh so grand;
He’d sneak into the Virgin Galactic’s shuttle
but, he’d have to quickly scuttle.
Then Branson’s pride prematurely ascended
his plans now thoroughly upended.
But, Gerry Gigabyte’s enjoying his ride,
a free trip to space to meet his own kind.
Fouey Fricklebundt fries formed generously under the daily duress of Voganistic scoundrel dogs and gloryfined frickleless masters showed up as Jayburgers seriously rounded up in a distressed way by interplanetarium worm hog feedsayergoers. Muddling in madness, the querulous queen of the planetarian everylords slapped an intergalactic space voyager cat into Fricklebundt’s space pod, knowing his allergies would do him in. Swarmpopped at last, we quickly showed the curious mongovvers that the welcome mat was closed to the queen after this meanness. Sixty-four species of humanoids dunderslapped their pawburgers upon the paperwork that caused her demise in record ways. It was a glorbobbering way to get our own candidate to the top of the Vogan council, so in a dubbbliciously deploriattting crazzllating way, it was what we wanted in the end.
As I watch the sun descend from view,
cast shadows across the land anew,
Floating warehouses engulf the sky
thus the shadows never die.
The drones which fill the evening air,
aren’t drones of old to thus compare,
but silent, programmed to communicate,
delivering goods and never late.
The chip implant within my hand
is my identity, you understand,
encrypted with a micro currency
for transaction approval of efficient fluency.
The robots, just like silk to touch
for which nothing is too much
parade the house, each play their part
like humanoids devoid of heart.
From cars that fly to boats that hover;
with 3D printers, everything’s on offer,
from building houses, making repairs
to all items in need of spares.
We sleep in pods with medical guile
monitoring organs in high tech style.
Ageing, now a long lost plague
of a distance past so acutely vague.
The cell phone, an archaic relic
now holographic, almost psychedelic,
run your life, in complete control,
total dependency with no parole.
Vacations restricted not to Earth,
so choose the planet of your birth,
Venus, Mars even the moon
places you will visit soon.
But species die out day by day,
we can do nothing else but to pray,
for nature’s habitat must prevail,
not advancements which the humans hail.
Angels are humanoids with bird- like wings.
Travel fast changing locations with swings.
They’re perceived as other worldly soul forms.
They guide and tell humans about His norms
They're messengers between God and mankind.
They discharge His orders that are defined.
They pull out negative power and heal.
We read about them with a lot of zeal
Angels reincarnate into cute girls.
Immaculate with pure hearts as white pearls
They carry legacy to grooms' houses
Connect the families as best spouses
They're the best managers and serve both ends.
Shower love and bliss with more dividends
They build lineage and family trees
Daughters! A family's real trustees
You fascinate clearly
Once you're out of your hive
Flitting here, landing there
Keeping gardens alive
There's a sweetness, and yet
Nasty sting so beware
Your work all consumes
As you zoom through the air
On return to the den
Over-share with a flurry
Of your flower-full journey
Full of buzzing and scurry
You waggle your tail
With your moves; figure eight
So your bee-chums to flowers
Can with ease navigate
You are sharing the load
And you hum as you go
Your communal spirit
More successful than solo
I envy you somewhat
Though your lifespan is shorter
That you dance while you work
I think more humanoids oughta
For we stress and we toil
Little sweetness to show
For our labouring lives
Whether sunshine or snow
Yet the Spring flowers beckon
In the garden of life
Perhaps to shimmy's the answer
To this trouble and strife