Long Irrelevance Poems

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


CLEVER

CLEVER

One likes to think oneself as clever
Always ironic, and with a wry grin
Yet the great leveller is often poetry
As it sorts the wheat from the chaff
And rhyme and metre can be a faff
All is fair in love, war and creativity
Such that we must take it on the chin
And abandon our high seat forever

When that thought or image strikes
As cold logic succumbs to inspiration
Did the brain have a sporting chance
It doesn’t matter what may be true
As one grasps the irrelevance of I.Q
And respects taking an emotive stance
Free verse has a sort of perturbation
Resonant with what someone likes

So, cleverness was never an absolute
And courage is needed to just let go
Some final tweaks and edits may work
After all the arrows have been loosed
The one in the target is the mot juste
Yet off to one side, other words lurk
It’s what you think not what you know
And claims of genius one must refute
Form: Rhyme


My World

Days darken,
alien Martian,
a red desert the main and dessert,
silenced sounds sing "death surrounds",
as those spoiled souls 
beneath the soil
follow for my blood sweat and toil.

No breeze, no trees,
an air so rough cut lungs bleed and breathe,
agitated rest that rages with stress,
no water to drink, no means to think,
sinking in meanness linked to weakness,
suggested thoughts to die digested
outnumber thoughts "you're being tested",
positive doesn't register at present,
denied that present, 
sent and presented 
evidence that renders my presence an irrelevance
with not an element of development 
preventing the dark envelopment.

Measures to trail pleasure fail to find treasure,
no success and severed from leisure, it could only suck less,
leaking a fear so powerful the emotion of scared rejects an appearance,
no distractions or interference just distress,
no flicker of hope in the distance, an empty mess,
it used to be so different, less difficult more significant,
I walked alone to this world showing signs I can't
get back, it must be my fault I'm living this mishap,
I misread the map resulting in capture, life in a trap.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

A Horse Named Lawrence

Not the best name for a horse, of course,
perhaps it was Arabian so we'll say it again;
they let me out, fifteen hands high, hoped it didn't buck,
not a rider till you've fallen off, just my luck. 

Guys alongside were an entrepeneur and a branding man,
I loved them both, never mind the bloody horse;
someone took off down the track at great speed,
it was an enigma really because there was no need.

The horse was dappled white, room enough for two,
those guys were more interesting than me and you;
we need an elixir - the immortal reason for existence,
how long does a horse live? Could you say it was good?

Don't call me a lost soul - it's just irrelevance,
because fortunately, I had a horse called Lawrence.
Form: Prose

Song of the Dying

You don’t feel upon lying
So you sing the song of the dying
Sunday afternoons 
Pastors choose reign in a spiritual doom 
The sun plasters we coons 
Stand out and fade faster with the moon
I bid you the same old static and blues
The one always in favor of tempered news
The trail of adventures and rules 
We don’t heal upon crying 
So we sing the song of the dying
The highways haunts you
Night sky’s taunt the blue 
All life wants from you
Is the truth
The secrets they’re telling you
One just knows not what to do 
Feel like you want to cry
Coincidentally you realize 
It would be better to die 
We don’t feel upon lying 
So we sing the song of the dying 
I’ve given away myself in every song
Driven the bars last liquor home
No sympathy for an aging man
For I cannot feel your tears 
Upon my rough hands 
My scared palms 
My irrelevance 
bared in chapters of Psalms 
Until my ending is calmed
Form: Ballad

A Former Slender Man Lapsed Unitarian Anorexic

A former slender man (lapsed Unitarian anorexic)...
deplores adipose tissue gain

No Holiday music can soothe savage beast
washboard abdomen weight watcher's dream fleeced
skinny bag of lovely bones permanently leased
body snatcher somewhere amidst policed

madding crowd of carolers singing,
where mine sinking spirits ceased
rising today December 18th, 2020
analogous how unleavened bread
(i.e. matzo) lacks yeast.

I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze

soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy (Etsy) as add a pose

zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes

siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy, plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep

tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap pissed lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,

know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller wannabe at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate

and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,

whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance

sing gluttony as his divine providence,
thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching consumer cellular 
skein to capacitance

bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!
Form: Rhyme


A Former Slender Man Deplores Weight Gain

I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze

soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy add a pose

zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes

siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy,plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep

tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap pissed lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,

know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate

and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,

whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance
sing gluttony as his divine providence,

thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching cellular skein to capacitance

bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!

Pouch Poetry 10 - 13

10.
the  apparent golden pot that i thought 
to be the underneath of a kadam-tree 

in the dim light i can notice that 
the stars in the sky are disappearing  

this session of poetry 
is coming to an end 

now where would i
go 

to that little home 

the home 
a tiny word of 4 letters 

within that home 
the children are giggling 
playing … and making funs 

when i entered 
with a tri-cycle in hand 
for them 

i have been perplexed 
many old persons are waiting there 
to shake hands with me

11.
almost most of my desires  
are very much hurt

to show it publicly 
i wrap bandages 
around all over my body 

i keep on the stage-drama  

in our programme of reading poetry 
tea is served twice 
current has gone off for three times 
for four times the mobiles ring
 
to pick up love  
some people think about returning back 
from today’s dais to the ancient stage 
of performing folk-drama 

then they are also sympathetic 
to my sufferings

12.
everyday 
on my way to return home from the school 
when my mom took hold of my hands

i could see in my body
the dancing of an unforgettable 
aura 

even now that mystical halo is walking 
on the leaves of the trees 
to fulfil my mornings 

that wayfaring along the road 
is ringing far and far-off 

thus taking bath in every day’s  
dust smoke hue and cry 

many such love 
gradually gets aged 

is it true 
in the long run 
i too
would be the ingredient 
of a fairy-tale

just because i love 
that paddy field 

some time later 
she will also become 
human 

13.
then she will make all of us  
join her walking 

those inmost feeling 
those memories meditations

the loneliness  and solitude…

sans the touch of the imagination of
a crater… 
a creator…

this blunder… 
this socially outcast white …
 
this type of uneven… 
and irrelevance…
 
sume words 
when peep in the mind
i surprise to see that 
it’s ten to 2 at night
 
then in the balcony 
my father is crying
 
he always notices some grave-yard men 
in front of him 

and sheds tears

Who I Am

Diane
 Aging - gracefully, 
  contemplating life - 
       past, present, future,
  holding tight to memories - 
        what was, what is yet to be,
  grateful - for everything - 
         just happy at being alive;
loved 
         by a brother, sisters, nieces, nephews, my little dog;
lover, 
         friend, companion, partners sharing, caring, daring, losing
dreamer, 
         fictionalizing reality for better things, 
         hoping, working for better outcomes,
fearing irrelevance, 
         wanting what was that cannot be, 
         clinging to the dream unfulfilled, life that was  
         never meant to be;
let me dream
         see the past in a better light,
         love so deeply it can never die,
         be the person I was always meant to be - 
                   just me,
Living, residing in the land
        still with remnants of the free
        and the brave
         thirsting for justice, truth and the American way;
Babbit.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Bio

Intelligentsia

I think about intelligence
     And wonder why we think our due
     Is sanctioned by our own IQ
That natural inheritance
     Compels us by unbending laws
     To evolutionary cause
That beggars to irrelevance
     The truth that brains can be a threat
     That make it easy to forget
The most compelling evidence
     That intellect may well provide
     A rationale for venal pride
Displacing sounder temperaments
     With logical proficiency
     Ignoring self-deficiency
And cultivates intolerance
     With vanity incredulous
     And tidy, hidden prejudice
That blithely leads to negligence
     Denying those less capable
     In contexts inescapable

I much prefer the elegance
     Of caring for the other guy
     Of answering a helpless cry
Of principled benevolence
     That intellect cannot be taught
     Beyond the wit of reasoned thought

I think about intelligence
That natural inheritance
That beggars to irrelevance
The most compelling evidence
Displacing sounder temperaments
And cultivates intolerance
That blithely leads to negligence

I much prefer the elegance
Of principled benevolence



Written July 5, 2018
Form: Rhyme

Midnight Hour

Pensive dreamlike awake and restless wonder,
where the faded Moon invites to ponder.
Boisterous thoughts from delicate irrelevance,
redeeming midnight charm and eloquence.
Changes that wakens the inner Dragon about,
glaring annoyance and swords to temper amount.
Struggling emphasis of conscience truth to hide,
kindled by some muse to open that wound so wide.
Some frail memories in still erected shame,
perhaps this neglected spot needs some refrain.
Rich with spoils in time not seeing the whole,
scattered some genuine flow of the soul.
I touched a heart that engaged in loving fire,
awaken ecstasies to promised ever after desire.
Lonely contemplation let me to this artless tale,
vulnerable heart and embarrassing forlorn fail.
A shrouded dusky veil disappeared as dust,
while moon light rays fill the dark adjust.
The strange of heart without a rest,
knows that love is a ever refining quest.
Form: Ballade

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