Long Italic Poems
Long Italic Poems. Below are the most popular long Italic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Italic poems by poem length and keyword.
As the day dawns and God yawns
There is sunshine and shade, this day that He made
There's colors and vibrants for us to see
There's teeming life under the sea
There's blue in God's Big Blue Eye
It's expanse, the first heaven, we call the sky
The orchestra of bird songs
The crawling of creatures creeping along
And the movement of God's crowning glory
The first to Second Adam completes the story
As the sun courses its way
Sometimes the moon appears during the day
Not so much the stars in their place
They will appear in time's constant race
We love, we laugh and we live
In this day as God does give
Gives to all across this plane
The earth blemished with every mountain range
Rain will fall on all in pace
This is known as God's common grace
As He knows all and everything
Nothing escapes His noticing
With all the blessings and curses extended
He has and is rolling back the curse intended
Now back to the green grasses and trees
His italic psithurism turns into a cool breeze
In a land where we are free to roam
This is one mansion we call our home
And there are many mansions as Jesus has said
As He spoke Creations words He'll speak again
As God has established our days and bounds
(We are all anticipating the trumpet sounds)
As bird songs started the day, they now end their flight
A lone train whistle calls out through the night
And His susurrations are, as every new day dawns
Another day starts over as our God yawns
Mystic magnetic fascination
is a shared enthrall;
kin to emancipation,
it is wired in us all.
A connection internal
serves as our one true voice
and stirs emotions supernal -
in this we have no choice.
Nature is unparalleled in
gifting divine intel
for it provokes intoxication
in each soul’s swell.
We spiritually dwell as
we feel deeply compelled
to exalt admiration with
grateful declarations.
... CayCay
July 26, 2019
For contest FINE TUNE THIS COLLABORATION sponsored by Line Gauthier
(Title) AFFINITY WITH NATURE / Line’s lines (poem shows them in Italic):
Magnetic fascination
Kin to emancipation
A connection internal
Stirs emotions supernal
Nature is unparalleled
Provokes intoxication
As we feel deeply compelled
To exalt admiration
So, I am hiding Occupied state
Or, else or, learning french occult eBay at
Non nuptial lady , a loner, an ex-positional urge
Inside the total nine after, even after a dirge
Alma mater in Houston, there will be a problem with Poseidon surge
Gone baha'i , a limerick try, optional pagan gods and winds around our flagstaff, IN
Animesh is ricocheting, consulting appendics
nonetheless painless as free as the appendix did say "Ish........"
Duncan hill and healthy premium is a cliched a trope
Hiatus , a self imposed speed limit where a bird, divine hoopoe
in colors and diva, will be "assimilating" marination tonight,
(and a fried second paper, oil blessing.)
About:
Sonia Gandhi is a royal chant there, like the people's princess and she
She is a muse , con clues on (and on) , with communal commuter and mundane be!
Why Al Pacino is a PhD dissertation, not now, not YA incognito !
As ethnic dish discourse will have ties to Gospel in a national crisis
With the Nobel prize, navel cutie and baby bottles and dresser case, cliffhangers!
Rules (unruly)
Once taken you cannot take it back, here they Stan, there they channelize
The "room" in Alexandria, Italic or a "Bambino" try."
Will you be trade relations with the orphan or a parallelism in "Ces't la vie?"
Will you be that oxymoron, to the symphony , flora and fauna
that had an entire Ramadan but never against a fie!
(Case and Code, both switches)
For a widow they say, the loosing atlas!
And for an affidavit , they say whisk() in a canop() try
And then board as you may find solace in grace (head on again, never hedonism)
did you marinate in between? Or ritual Can I pray today?
Can i try? Can i die? Can i sigh? Can i hi? And most of all
can i Nye?
January, 2025
Strolling down the streets of ancient Pompei,
I discovered the tomb of a freed noble man;
unearthed from the volcanic black ashes,
now it blooms surrounded by fragrant lilies
as it appeared in its imperial, glorious days!
Looking closer, I noticed tools itched
on its sides, the trade of a freeman
once enslaved by his wealthy master,
and to prove that he was also of a noble
spirit, he wanted to be remembered
for his achievements and his intellect!
Not all Romans were cruel as History attests,
but had a good heart helping the lower class;
had the Emperor made aware of such generosity,
they would have been killed or thrown to the beasts!
Our greedy society is similar, workers being underpaid;
its an invisible slavery and yet it gives us shivers
for their unhuman condition and horrible abuse:
Rome's mentality of slavery survives to our day!
The proud sons of immigrants will arise to avenge
their fathers rage, they will sit with the prominent ones
sharing the same ideals and status that honor freedom!
Build my marble tomb by the shade of cypresses,
plant jasmines and lilacs around it and let them bloom;
the late image of me on the top with a pen on the right
and a notebook on the left...what a lovely display
of my vocational trade! Will someone discover my grave?
The brief epithet itched in italic letters should read:
" Born a free man and died a free man in a foreign land."
Repast for June 13th, 2020...
(and countless provender
scores of years gone by)...
to partake larding refrigerator cupboards
think respectable food vendor.
Courtesy Montgomery County
(Pennsylvania) Assistance Office in general
and Electronic Benefit Transfer
(EBT) card in particular.
Yes, I (a mere tenderloin) reckonize
a long overdue thank you
wouldrequiremorethanone breath whew
but a clear and
distinct preference necessitates
easy to read and understand view
versus merely typing gobbledygook,
which would invite
yours truly typing Urdu
(which language I know
absolutely nothing about... true)
but lack of familiarity
never stopped me stew
wing anonymous readers
with ire, now I rue
men hate, yepper after
forcing anonymous readers
to wade, née (nearly drown)
into thicket of quo
titty yen verbiage, invariable
coming across as po
i.e. half assed poet,
whose self impressive smugness
amounted to diddly squat,
thee immediate answer
obviously, an emphatic,
Italic, unchic... "NO"
quite surprised if
"PLEASE SIR, I WANT MO!"
your unequivocal response,
which counter reply "LO
AND BEHOLD" would
casually follow suit ya know,
cuz all kidding aside,
yours truly (me), an average Joe
King garden variety,
and generic bot ready
for thee to interview
me, ultimately, preferably,
and ideally hue
not linkedin to
those awful *****sapiens
though... as a baby going goo
goo gaga, they seem
exclusive as Fontainebleau
(Area: 66.43 mi²)
regarding comprehending et tu
probably agree, that babies
create an abundance of do do
unapproachable as motley crew
who stoically man/woman
aforementioned French town
southeast of Paris where
sun shines every day,
and sky always blue.
The Grid
I am a single line connecting at an intersecting point
with many other lines
These lines that I am a part of form a massive grid
that represents humanity
We are all a unified force here on this intersecting plane
and we are all decidedly equal
There is no more importance given to one line over another
just as I am simply another line
However humanity likes to seek extraordinary in ordinary
so some lines become bold
We grant boldness to those of importance to our every day lives
while some lines simply become italic
The bonds forged through heredity and social interaction
form the foundation of the grid
They form neat little squares that we surround with those who matter
and as more lines are created so to are squares
Disconnected we are simply fragile lines existing in confusion
but connected we form the strengthened grid
A unification of ideas and religion and values that differ from line to line
are afforded the chance to mingle together
The intersections where lines meet aren't always very friendly
but these intersections are vital
For without intersections there would be no connection
and without connection we would have anarchy
Thus while I am simply another line on this grid of humanity
I help provide unifying intersections
As par and parcel of being
alive wire impossible aye
to maintain totally tubularly
literarily celibate by and bye
with parochial restraint antiseptic dry
as dust poetic refrains
asper this healthy older guy
devoid of physical whim zee
unlike a inscrutable eunuch...so hi
there dear reader experienced
by this self contrived Zen
minded nonestablishmentarian outlier,
whose nonconformist yen
tries to steer clear of controversy,
heresy, prurient wen
unless one happened
to be eunuchized,
i.e. sexless as a cold oven,
but similar to generic men
this writerly hen
pecked husband dully
drumming, droning, and
dribbling as a lix spittle
aged chap housed within
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania bailiwick
though far less inclined
to whet ma lil atrophied dipstick
than some young buck
at the peak of his sexual prowess
every now and again viz,
aye feel a much slighter sensation
drubbing, crackling, and
buckling mine body electric
and attempt to record
re: font ten blue type
boldface and/or Italic
such infrequently occurring
fleeting Johnson magic
speculating why the
hoo ha regarding mystic
spell binding codas,
dogmas, and enigmas,
an integral component naturalistic
within the calculus of life,
when human species
(parenthetically), naturally, inherently,
and biologically opportunistic
akin to other organisms whose quixotic
antics allow NON GMO,
MSG, and gluten free,
and uncensored discussion
asper reproductive habits rhapsodic
with floral and/or faunal symphonic
emanations donning each their own
"NON FAKE" trumpeting
spectacular humbly modest
rubric, yet...universalistic
as being linkedin
within the cosmic whirled wide web.
Prune juice as effective emetic
Brainstorming yields casting
the following plumbline
netting genetic, italic, kinetic,
magnetic, opportunistic, quixotic,
synchronistic, and universalistic result.
Ofttimes I experience constipation bout,
and thus the missus pours me a class
of natural laxative with clout
nursing said tonic,
yours truly situated in close proximity
to bathroom without doubt
lest sphincter muscles go into overdrive
wreaking excretory fallout
challenge compounded to access loo
courtesy flare up of gout
while all alone in the wilderness
helplessly at odds how to receive handout
of toilet tissue (or baby wipes), I bewail
to avoid staining underwear
(with trademark skid marks,
which the wife bemoans,
when washing clothes in kitchen sink
repulsed when seeing
a small piece of excrement)
the latter cloth material to clean tuckus,
which I prefer using
to attend unpleasant task
to render posterior happy and shiny tushy
(housing a well functioning conduit,
where human waste eliminated
that without fail
fills tidy bowl brim to overflowing)
frequently necessitating me to bucket flush
and/or notify management headquarters
(for a plumber) located in Lansdale,
which short poem
figuratively sketches thumbnail,
when dyschezia plugs up
lower orifice of the alimentary canal
a side effect linkedin to one or more
of the prescription medications
reliant upon to ameliorate
the mental health issues
of social anxiety, dysthymia,
(a low mood occurring
for at least two years,
along with at least
two other symptoms of depression), and
palmar hyperhidrosis (characterized by
chronic excessive sweating,
not related to the necessity of heat loss)
to list a few outstanding plagues
upon mine body electric
afflicting me since mommy dearest
witnessed debut during her parturition
heralding my debut into this badass
webbed, wide world,
whereby wildly contra dancing,
(the most fun one can have
with their clothes on),
a pleasant panacea,
yours truly foot loose and fancy free
applying nimble fingers watching
lovely ladies fancifully twirled.
248 (eman dine tare bala jay)
On a day like this, perhaps,we may hum along the river Shenandoah , carefree
On a day whence it rains to reign a full swing, even though unpredictable, the longest is she! The river Trinity!
On a day like this to feel carefree, born to be free , and we say as she will be
A husky voice like this to be a thunderbolt aftermath , an unforeseen divinity
A rainy day like this to feel a rain soaked bird nest weaver mourner serenity
knocked out a wanderer pour, the darkest day light to soar.
None would lend an ear and hence forth uproar
None would be there, undisturbed absorbance , only speechless
Nihilism and kismet , wills met face to face , and the deepest solace
a down pouring rain, an usher from the sky
A lone ranger is she, with none other there to drift along trinity!
Sophist a lowly world here to trick
Tricky a cacophony to lure a meek
A compassionate gaze, a carefree to timely cage a whim, a majestic cry!
concise, specified and bullet point answered whence enchanted eyes
met in the depth, trickling downpour, two by two and more
Heart reached out to heart a beat , only they
And the remnant is in the dark sits there to say nothingness in a may
no loser is the world and she
longs to be there to no scar to any one charming to be
Incessant a down pour
She took a stance in an estranged oddity and for
And we told stories foretold
to impeach none to beseech or to preach
An ayah blew there a deep may to blow a gentle say in plethora delight
and lightning struck to mesmerize a dumb strike to take a heed every now and then
remnant they say, serenity, thou may, italic verse to grow optimistic, and even though
Turner entropy might say today, otherwise after all these are tarnished and although
On a day like this, perhaps, we may hum along the river Shenandoah, carefree
On a day whence it rains to reign a full swing, even though unpredictable, the longest is she! The river Trinity!
Oodles Of Google Doodles...
visually delicious as germane strudels
the following cooked years ago
courtesy me noggin awash with noodles.
Yours truly crafted remaining poem
around 27th July 2018
idea arose within me cerebral dome.
...As poetic theme came to mind
in a Serge without a waiver
thus, I took a virtual Page
from Google LLC to slaver
with little effort
in an acceptable
rhyming rant and raver
about said American
multinational technology company
that rode dot com bubble,
where other startups did quaver
specializing in Internet-
related services and products
rolled out amidst
much fanfare palaver
though odd, how such an obvious
idea hit me like figurative brick
over thine noggin
upon instantaneously espying
Lyudmila Vladimirovna Rudenko
Soviet chess player, and second
women's world chess champion,
from 1950 until 1953
when bitta bing bitta
chitty chitty bang bang
that eureka momenta did click
mental wheels and cogs
as if...an oil derrick
hit a mother lode, thence subsequently
inducing automatic flick
as latest feted persona grata
gets done up in bold face and/or Italic,
nonetheless a commendable
spontaneous fantastic burst
of inspirational magic
commensurate with mine
modest prolific quixotic
of course, I WON'T applaud
idea de jure as terrific
and puzzle over, how such "a ha"
brilliant idea did not occur to this -
Ok la home ma sooner
ushering world wide
webbed trumped "FAKE"brouhaha
sooner to the mind
of this humble caca
Louie, who admittedly
feels tidy bowl flush with
goo goo Lady gaga
(tony the TIGER FEELING great,
a mild euphoria if gifted
as lottery winner)
over the top smugness -
unaware of jeering ha ha ha
within dark internet arena,
where the much maligned,
loathed, and feared Jaw
bar wall key (jabberwocky)
dwells ready to pounce
outsize egos hated
like an incorrigible outlaw
hmm...perhaps cognizant
ex post facto, I set
a deadly faux paw
forever remembered as
ornery oaf forced to eat raw
bits (hexadecimal at that!)
sucked in via last turkey in straw
that broke the camel's back.