Long Iterations Poems

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


A Stray Tear Doth Adieu Occasionally Shed

toward thee spunky gal, 
     whose impregnation and debut appearance 
     way to brief a tale for Aesop
cuz, (umpteen iterations recounted),
 
     out the birth canal aye did bop
analogously compared
     to a mealy mouthed measly crop
a spindly tangle of arms and legs 

     radiated (starfish like) 
     dangled and would uselessly drop
like a raggedy ann male counterpart 
     (raggedy andy - how original) 

     with limbs that didst flop
and tis no small wonder, thyself as one 
     newborn baby body electric 
     easily confused with bony glop,

which skimpy weight 
     leant convenience as sigh grew older 
     to alternate jumping 
     (ala pogo stick mode) and hop

from one skinny spindle shank leg to another, 
     and manifold orbitz whip
     sawing round the sun 
     bore witness to puny laughable specimen 

     of a nerdy lad, who (in hindsight) 
     grew long straggly hair, 
     which NO ONE (except me) could touch, 
     nor most definitely NOT lop

off (this fetish) compensation 
     for very slight physique
     in dewed time begot 
     pencil necked geek milksop,

now at an age prowl lix sing viz 
     dragging, crawling, battling...
     slight abdominal bulge  
unlike widower octogenarian biological pop

whose once strapping superman 
     like build atrophying (sad sight)
since grim reaper put objectionable stop
upon head of harriet harris, 
    whereat two and a half score years 
    her longevity did top.
 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
now, comb may tooth how zen, 
sans eight plus ten
'twill be thirteen yars
when me late mum agonizingly relinquished
 
     an indomitable loo ving life, 
     which strong fighting spirit 
     (spittle and vinegar) yen
reached a juncture, 

     (sans metastasized ovarian cancer) 
     forewent heroic measures, which ken
not avail bottled anger within this sole son
telling thee, he didst love ye 
     never communicating NOR often!
Form: Epitaph


The Gate of Search

As a child, looked darkness
        in the eye
  My truth always within,
        love does not die
  Remembered ere entering,
       this solid state
   and many times since,
     traversed that gate
   That those call death,
     whose memories are locked
   All who come with purpose clear,
      know tis only blocked
    Be not melancholy, 
       for here all must travel
    Else would hierarchies of life unravel
     Since that time, home's music 
       was shattered
     From thence our souls myriad pieces
       were scattered
    Now thru many iterations of birth
    Seeking to gather, parts lost on
        beautiful Earth
     Our thirsty spirits,
       never stop yearning
     So please know, death is but
       this quest's turning.


Written May 17th 2018 for contest
sponsored by Broken Wings
theme: love does not die
Placed 8th
Form: Rhyme

I Scrutinize Myself As Case Study

(alternately titled -
today's lesson iz
addressing categorical imperative)

Courtesy of unpleasant he
ping diatribes visited me
from eldest offspring ugh gree
guss vituperations, doth force me
     to admit (and take key
lock, stock, and barrel
     lamentations to heart), that she
(Eden Liat) didst

     perceive (hence nee),
interpret as her reality
     regarding my actions,
     intents, words, et 
     cetera men knee
instances of objectionable
     dealing with situations
     of mine mien to thyself

     (lamely, meekly, and nervously
     pleading being oblivious),
     nonetheless purportedly untoward
     fatherly behavior, said kin recoils
     in reaction to extremely re:
pulse sieve, no matter,
     whether paternal behavior
     of mine unintentional (see

ming lee) find
     ding total unawareness
     as poor excuse, which does not
     hold candle box 
     three doors down, nor 
     bankable, dutiful guarantee
hence this papa, heed decree, 
his displeasing, now accepting

     onerous task of child rearing
     inflicted hurtful affects asper,
     mismanaging challenges
     as legal guardian,
     and thus grievously, honestly,
and readily attests averse
     to hold a mirror be
fore my person as

     proof positive aware
     ness, and accept,
     how I usurped carte blanche
     (parental role, no
     matter honest intentions,
     sans welfare of daughters)
     unknowingly shamefacedly interpreted

     as unflattering about me
whom willy nilly 
     bandied authoritarian free
reign (and/or rein)
     recounting mine foibles, viz
despite my best intentions,
     impressions, and iterations
     as even handed sues err un tee

I mint jewel 
     lip succoring (suzerainty)
spurring the conundrum,
     que who, what,
     and how does one pre
sent lee define
     true intentions, and whether
neutral stance can be cree
jewel less lee codifies, si?

Premium Member curse of quiet -

if you can not speak, hear ...

I am no better than you -
we are turning inward en masse
light gleams from the mountaintops and steeples
warning us with dread, yet our swirling head is never fully fed
the beast, reticent as death, wastes breath on blame

it screams without a voice to shatter the mirror of truth
begs with keen intent to move our lips
to reach and grow and sing
the song matters not ...
it is the lilt music of elucidation that begs to tremble the air

and the sacred echos not our own ...
lies and cries ... moans-to-sighs
the pregnant replies that move in the womb of hope
cloaked in doom they grope for sound, sacred
but are born wan and still and cold ...

if but a heaven's thunder to rattle the starry veil
to coax the sun to wail its bright, athwart the darkening hem
to tear the dreams from our hearts, and cast them upon our fellows
to feel the weighty wonder of dire discourse and deliberation
to burn our iterations in the frozen flames of compromise

but first, to daub tender our lips with utterance
for if the air hangs deaf and dewy like the crimson morn
we will surely earn our sorry fate and folly
and cold curse ...
of silence ...

if you hear, speak.







~ 1st Place ~  in the "Sound Of Silence" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.

Storm Inside the Brain

She was beautiful like the rainbow. 
Her fragrant smiling words of luminance. .
Unleashed adrenaline into his mind..
with tactile thoughts of proximal paradise.
His five senses collaborated a screenplay. ..
with billions of brilliant tangled neurons.
He imagined... .the fantasy of being in love.

But deep in the sky of his heart..
Gathered dark chasing clouds.
Storms of rain, snow, sand, fire..
swirled up the grey matter. 
The trident crooned,... "Probably","Possibly", "Surely"..

Temperature rises to drop the pressure..
A storm breaks inside the brain.
The folds and crease immerse in chaotic squall. 
Pulverises the pernicious clouds. 
Thunderstorms rumble loud.
Sparks of lightning flicker. 

Perfidious friction is now visible. 
Resonance of sight and sound.
In ledger of brain transactions drowned. 
A sullen algebra of equations..
with iterations of sixth sense
convolute a restless nexus of unknown variables. 

With fearless freedom, the brain breaks and shakes..
A hurricane of frustration. .
A tornado of desperation. .

Yes..He endured the disruptive baritone storm.
It crashed him hard..
He muttered, " It's just a passing crush ".

A thick blanket wraps and obscures the windows of his eyes.
The impending rain peacefully waits for the sun..
for the beautiful rainbow of true love


16th October 2018.

Placed 3rd WIN position in the contest. 
Submitted for BRAINSTORM poetry  contest sponsored by John Hamilton. 
Contest description: 1 original, poem on the theme of BRAINSTORM ,  an inside compassionate view into a fractured mind; the winning poem will be full of emotion and drama. Minimum 12 lines maximum 40 lines. Free verse is only acceptable form.


Premium Member Innovative Commentary

INNOVATIVE COMMENTARY

where purpose
alludes
self-glowing iterations
   are accentuated
yet
restrained
  by complicity

an uneasy assessment
  on reflection
of facial
   gymnastics
where expression
incarnates
   in enviable
propensity
&mundane fantasy
is  collapsed
by
 tradition
appropriated
& subverted
in the
   collective psyche
tangible
  evidence
   mutating
emotive
squashed
  &
substituted
then
   released

THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Form: Other

Premium Member ai

the way my words move together
                           fall 
                           from 
                               me 
                             on
                     occasion ~ as a fine rain ~
                                  in TO
                                      RR
                                      EN
                                      TS
 aboltingbreeze
 a sneezy desert devil
    erupting flur-ries
                                     as scorching        day
                                   the refreshment of dew

             u 
          s     n
 as a t          a m i 
                                    an enigma 
                                              of clouds...
  
The indivisible collective 
singularly possessed
voice

authentic 
iterations

After Dinner Childhood Parlor Game

let me take thee dear reader rabbit alas and alack 
on an imaginary carpet ride whisk king ye dis family back 
rheumy eyes started to water from nostalgic clack
until reverse time warp registered 

   late 19600's, without one kink 
smooth all the way akin 
   to a flawless artful lettered link
no harm to any animals, 
   though a near head on collision with a mink

crossing the bridge o'er Tarabithia one gruff troll
nearly upended our smooth sailing thru ether with a roll
over maneuver that near went awry, 
   but for the amazing grace of dog a poll
lease trained pooch, 
   who cuz born on Christmas christened Noel

accompanied with lady and the tramp 
no major plans did we need to revamp
and upon arrival at destination 
   received good house keeping stamp

of approval to begin playing an all time favorite
pass time (with rules adapted as needed) to hit
a high score, when at some impromptu moment lit
an unseen spark, then after determining 
   who would go first, (while whirling in a small orbit)
now both of us far to involved to quit

we applied “rock”, “paper”, and “scissors” 
   and commenced our aim
which entailed (either me or shari) 
   to choose other than our own class picture to claim
for the other sibling to identify the correct name

though thru countless repetitions, the novelty did not get bland
a minor bit of concentration each of us did politely demand
of student (or teacher), whatever kid our index finder did land

number of iterations continued, how many...oh brother,
sans gesticulating rigmarole without asking mother
father, nor eldest sister, 'til eventually every girl and boy 
   (from respective grade including the other)

accurately identified, than back to the future we went
after what seemed like an eternity spent
revisiting nostalgic day of yesteryear, 
when upon arrival to the heron now birds-eye view
our bodies morphed aging at warp speed 
thomas sister this yawping crotchety old fogey gent.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mother Nature

So, you thought that you could play your game forever?
Thought you had power over me?
You exist on this planet because I let you.
You exist on this planet because of me.

I’ve seen you parasites before and I will see iterations again.
But don’t think that you own the law when the earth asks me to step in as a friend.

Your welcome is now overstayed.
Don’t think that some divine power will help you now you’ve an enemy of nature made.

I control the power of the seas and the oceans.
I control the power of the moon and the sun.
I control the powers of extinction.

You’re a speck in my history. 
You thought that you owned me. 
You thought that you could control me… 

you thought wrong.

It is a Lovely place

Remember how you’ve come such a long way
Becoming iterations of what you’ve become
You’ve grown vulnerable with a pompous inner child 
You know joy is about being grateful
And your grief has melted to give way to life 
But the tender love 
Of those who loved you 
Has steeped into your soul
You now diminish the ties that exhaust you
You know Things not meant to stay will erode
And what’s meant to stay will earnestly follow you like a shadow
Until you face the light and become that beacon of hope
You’ve learned that days will be thick with darkness
Which will persevere in your shivering spine
But you will survive and start stronger 
Because you are tenacious too,
Your flame is unique, resolute
You adjust your luminosity
Your tears have cleared your vision 
And now you know 
Your people are just one or two
But you have become a people’s person
You don’t judge them, you have just accepted yourself
How well now you’ve carved your self esteem
Like a costly glassware, protecting it
Not giving it in other people’s hands
You have practiced patience like a song on repeat
Honoring your self, now you sow seeds everyday
You’ve let That knocking joy come in
And you give sadness a seat too when it visits
Your little rainbow follows you in your car
That one which your loved one sent you
Remember how you’ve come such a long way
With this love and wisdom that pervades you
It’s a lovely place!
© Daisy Bala  Create an image from this poem.

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