Long Italics Poems
Long Italics Poems. Below are the most popular long Italics by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Italics poems by poem length and keyword.
My ceiling fan has 4 blades.
It is a good mover. Cooling
while dispersing; driving out
the old allowing for cleaner,
more breathable replacement.
Inhaling comfortably, I think
of all that went into such a
marvelous invention. My parents'
fans were, open doors and windows.
Wet sheets hung from the upper
casements; and with a little breezy
help from nature, they survived those
very hot Midwest, suffocating evenings.
They survived the dust and disease.
They survived the lean crops and
bloody wars. They respected
each other, keeping their love
strong and sacred. They did
without so that I could attend
school, later to have all the
luxuries our present prosperous
era has to offer. The framed degree,
on my office wall is often a focus of my
attention. My name in bold Italics.
But I always read aloud the invisible
credits: Mom, Dad, and the grace
of God.
Autumn brings colors to uplift "summer's soul"
"washing withered" greens with bright patina;
the eyesight delight which brightens and abets,
with "fiery fusion," new scenes old summer will accept-
highlights, imparted justly, as her season's last hurrah
while she leaves, bereaves her lost Xanadu,
in the brilliance of red/golds swirled with orange/amber,
crowning trees and carpeting sprawled bald lawns with cheer-
to "soften summer's" exit within "Autumn's arena"-
until she returns again- post next year's Spring Rebirth.
September 11, 2022
~1st Place~
Contest: The A's Have It
Sponsor: Joseph May
Judged: 10/02/2022
Theme/Title: Last Hurrah
Bold = Alphabetical order of 3 words
Quotes = Alliterations
Italics = Internal Rhyme
---------------------------------------------------------------
Contest Rules:
2 or more lines with 3 words in alphabetical order. It can be
more words but the minimum is 3 words.
3 or more lines with alliterations.
2 or more lines with internal rhymes (perfect rhymes)
Spell out a word with the last letters of each line,
That word is your Title and your Theme
Three decades ago, I was smaller.
My steep wedges made me seem taller!
In gigantic glasses
I taught my six classes,
and I worked hard. I was no staller.
Though mixtures of old and new dances
were challenging, I took my chances
on pulling a muscle
while doing the hustle
at proms. I got many shocked glances!
These people and things are iconic:
The Golden Girls, Reagan, Hask Tonic,*
moonwalk, Dirty Dancing,
the cold war, Romancing
the Stone. Need to GET REAL was chronic.
poem title--song by the Bangles *for hair italics for movie titles
October 16, 2018, entered in Michelle Faulkner's Remembering the
1980's Contest
"Live life to fullest, as it seems-
but, leave unlocked your door of dreams."
_by Poet
Three decades had elapsed- surpassing days
they lived next door- partaking fun-filled years.
Oft-times, I'd sit, so dreamlike in a daze-
still fancying them here- and, oft with tears.
One night, I closed my eyes to simply rest
beside the moonlit pool in our backyard.
Before long, deep asleep- I felt distressed
by hazy lights fast catching me off guard.
Then, through the circle of large maple trees,
two shadowy beings each waved a hand-
ethereal- there, floating with the breeze,
they called my name- so I would understand.
My trancelike state of mind said, no! Unreal!
Imaginary, this must surely be!
The spirits of my mom and dad, surreal-
now gliding 'cross the lawn to visit me.
It was that night, I closed my eyes to rest-
while through the circle of large maple trees,
my prayers had sent that vision- truly blessed;
dreamed of my parents- waving in the breeze.
May 24, 2021
~1st Place~
Contest: Writing Prompt - Dreamlike
Sponsor: Constance La France
Judged: 06/02/2021
Words Required (in italics)
dreamlike, hazy, shadowy, ethereal,
trancelike, unreal, imaginary, surreal
Yours truly an aging baby boomer
long haired pencil necked geek
trademark disheveled characteristics
whipsawed ever faster around sun.
He (best buddy and alter ego of mine)
snapped, popped, and crackled
firstly his crown out cervix
subsequently skinny arms and legs
(I'll spare ye the bloody graphics),
whence obstetrician able, eager, and
ready underscored with italics
to pronounce hosannas
regarding garden variety
generic wrinkled newborn
emerging out birth canal
asthma noggin heralded
scrawny newborn, now celebrating lxiii
plus deux orbits around nearest star,
which birth sported an ordinary
uneventful, nonetheless miraculous
biological secrete heave reproductive tricks
immediately screaming
without assistance courtesy
Gran Prix (now pronounced as pricks)
also envision Dolby surround sound
nsync with spastic kicks
'o mine straggly mostly
gangly lovely bones mox nix.
Within some nondescript building
named The Christ Hospital
location Mount Auburn
Cincinnati, Ohio
(the buckeye state)
record number C57587
gingerly handled courtesy
Doctor James Mackay McCord
(ushering none other than me
into the wide webbed world)
bestowed upon bosom of Harriet Harris,
thy young mother of prolonged labor
as his bony ass easily
slipped out uterine crypt,
whereby with Vernix
caseosa, the waxy or cheese
he appeared made rather dipped
in tallow, thence unexpectedly whipped
minuscule fist ready to bump.
1. Today, the weather feels like heaven's bliss!
2. The balmy breeze and beautiful soft blue
3. of sky above so makes me think of love.
4. I feel time's right to write a charming poem
5. alone, together with my thoughtful views;
6. the day's bright glow morphs into sunny smiles
7. as sun speaks out to tell me all's okay.
8. Free gift, true fact, sun is my greatest joy!
9. Oh loveliness of day you melt my heart!
10. The words are humming, coming to my mind...
11. not nasty, snippy ones, evoked by rain,
12. but sweet, melodious, soft, sing-song ones
13. that move what's seen to my poetic scene
14. to paint such happiness when weather's fine.
15. And now...my poem...profound or slight? Oh no!
16. To write with pointless pencil...so pointless!
Poetic Devices Used In Lines 1 through 16: Words in italics help identify them.
1. Simile 2. Alliteration 3. Internal Rhyme 4. Homophone 5. Oxymoron
6. Metaphor 7. Personification 8. Pleonasm 9. Euphony 10. Assonance
11. Dissonance 12. Parallelism 13. Homonyms 14.Truism 15. Antithesis
16. Pun Lines 10-14 Enjambment
August 18, 2018
~3rd Place~
Contest: Litany of Poetic Devices
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Judged: 09/13/2018
*Image of Clock Time Dove by Pixabay.
Keola: Sonnet
"Most people would sooner die than think, in fact, they do," ... Bertrand Russell (Quote hidden within the Sonnet in Italics
Most of the time when I'm under the sun,
ought not to watch nor pass by on people,
befuddled about clock-glued eyes outrun,
a zenith star would climb o'er the steeple.
Sooner all will suspect that life's too brief,
plus, die surrounds confidence merits life.
I've improved rather than grasp my belief,
and think I got the choice result fehl strife.
Confuse not in the consequence head-on,
direct my route, let that star point beyond,
a scale that exacts stealthily who's drawn,
bargain heightened the fact I did respond.
I discovered they who do take time, plans
to firmly coil, so to turn the clock's hands.
*fehl: fault; flaw; failure
2021 December 06
Italics, seek to emphasize.
Sacrifice, thy spill.
Seer and prophet, inner eyes.
Oracle, see nil.
Happiness, thy fate is doom.
Engraved on a tomb.
Belladonna, thy full bloom.
Heart of mine? No room...
Wind, carry the sparks of fire.
Cicadas, shriek loud.
Blessed is a dark desire?
Humble thus the proud.
Union of tomorrow?
It's got to start today.
Soil, what is thy sorrow?
Whene'er I blow away.
Castle weighted down with ice?
Well, 'twill stop a siege.
Penury, plight, poison, price.
Light a match, my liege.
Wicker man, thy nick'ring mare.
Fingernails to pare.
Death arises from despair?
Bet I'll see you there.
Hair beneath a river's flow?
Warrior, you slipped.
Gold: the reason all men go!
Quahog, how you quipped!
Tympani, train thy temper.
Tomorrow, tamarisk.
Tale and talent, take the tour.
Time the torrent brisk...
Only bold , italics , and center .
I FORGIVE YOU – Timothy Chawana
My body was precious until you touched it.
My taste was sealed until you licked it.
Like snow my fragrance melted,
Melted by your scorching insensitivity.
Like glass you saw through me,
With your bloody hands you brought my pieces together.
My cracks permanent, original no more,
With your hands you strangled my voice,
Now dumb, how can you hear me?
Hand in hand always with you,
Now a dark shadow behind you,
Shying away from limelight,
With my twisted ring in my finger.
To emotional heaven I will pilot you,
And back I will land you softly on my bosom.
Now a robot in a hell garage.
I will love to be free,
I will love to love,
I will love to feel,
I will love to see,
You.
On your knees,
Not before a robot, but your creator.
Your present of plight
Is my free flight.
I forgive myself for loving you,
As I divorce with life,
I forgive you.
Only bold , italics , and center .
The Corsican was never really Gallic.
The Austrian was not remotely Prussian.
Jugashvili (let's put this in italics)
could not be, in a month of Sundays, Russian.
The point of Communism is, it's global,
or else it's nothing. Swimming or it's dead,
like sharks, it fans out (kind of like Chernobyl).
Like peanut butter, it was made to spread.
This in-one-country nonsense once held sway
(Archangel, all the way to Kazakhstan),
but when he died, his system blew away,
as do all systems centred on one man.
Napoleon's snowball stopped with "Viet Cong".
The wonder is, it lasted quite so long.