Long Jot down Poems
Long Jot down Poems. Below are the most popular long Jot down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jot down poems by poem length and keyword.
All right, no more Abecedarian again!
Buzz off,
Cut me some slack,
Dogging me,
Entrapping me with a
Form of poetry I am not
Good at,
Hamilton!
I entreat you
Jot down some other forms that won’t
Knock me off my rocker, like
Lyric, Limerick or Lay on
Myth and Mystery,
Narrative, Ninette or Nonet,
Ode, Ottava rima or Sicilian Octave maybe,
Parody, Pastoral or Parable even,
Quatrains or Qasida on
Romantic comedy or Repartee,
Shadow, how about Seharaa, Sestina or Senryu?
Tail-rhyme, Tanka, Triolet, Tetractys or Tyburn even?
Unlike Terza Rima, Terzanelle or
Villanelle and Vaasokht, just have contests on
Wit and Wisdom in form Vers Libre!
Xerox my words, Shadow Hamilton—
Yonder, beyond your vision, in the wings awaits a
Zealous Poet!
~07/01/15
Abecedarian contest by Shadow Hamilton
Taking Wing
Written by David
I’m thankful everyday to have you by my side…there is no need to hide…I’m going along with the ride
I lived on the edge for too long now…
I will rise from the ashes one way or another
I can’t pretend that everything will be a sundae with a cherry on top
No one is available to listen to me once more…
I was once a bird, taking wing and having so much fun…
Am I trapped in here for others’ pleasure?
Why can’t I fly and feel the sun,
Caress my wings with warm-hearted affection beyond measure?
My guardian angel of light; shimmer anew with all of your perpetual might
So I sit down and pout and jot down everything that’s on my mind
Lies chased me down…this road of frustration
And I’m falling away into the black hole of my nightmares
I believed in you and you put me down…
Caged for no apparent reason…
Am I trapped in here for others’ pleasure?
Why can’t I fly and feel the sun,
Caress my wings with warm-hearted affection beyond measure?
I look up to you and I admire your halo, hovering around your head gaily and vibrantly…do you still abide –
I’m shattered…and I’m in disbelief…
You disappointed me with your wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing words
I’m scared and in anguish…I need some relief
Right now… I feel like I’m in captivity, freaking out like a thousand birds…
I was once a bird, taking wing and then you shot me down with your negativity and your discouragement of plenty…but I kept on biting the bullets, so put down that gun…
Am I trapped in here for others’ pleasure?
Why can’t I fly and feel the sun,
Caress my wings with warm-hearted affection beyond measure?
D-do you still abide in the light or are you a fallen angel who fell victim to the lusts of midnight?
See truth make sense
Live present tense
Work with plain words
Let tale be heard
When you look back
See acts of fact
Time and space move
In active grooves
Years pass so fast
To first and last
No need to hide
In empty pride
Learn to live well
So age can tell
Peace funds pure joy
As work employs
Soon you can see
Fond memories
Start to jot down
Sage, fool and clown
Record your tracks
As memoir stacks
Start poignant lines
Write what feels fine
Laugh and have fun
With story puns
Let form take shape
Sculpt man that apes
Leon Enriquez
28 September 2014
Singapore
New Free Verse -YEAR
We are all gathered here
For what it's worth
It won't hurt
Let's just call this Free Verse
Dust off some dirt
Convert in my converse
My mini blue jean skirt
Topless with no shirt
Rocking & rolling
Bodies crashing
Everybody's growling
I am just laughing
While (TPS) keeps on scoring
They keep on graphing
Overrun by their staffing
Pulling and strolling
What they got cooking & dashing
Noising up this summer
Crashing up my hummer
Bashing heads like a hammer
In and out like a plumber
Pounding bodies of armor
Jot down like a drummer
Moshing up this poetry pit
P.D. Came and took the glamour
Then the Soup turned around
Slammed us- out of a form
Chopping my grammar
This new free verse bumming form
By: P.D.
Is like a time bomb of words waiting to explode...driven up the road to a new way of thinking....blinking rhythms with words...bringing myself to mind shrinking antics linking...my poetic mind to an attic like an addict but of words...I’m thinking....
My poetic mind will never find it so hard to jot down words that I see...deep within my travesty...locking them in so no one could steal my words from me...this is just me being me...see never do I wanna be just another wanna be...that is someone I would never see...living...I have forgiven the unforgiven...given that driven time bomb of words to this wake up able dream of a crystal river stream forming a team with the sky...’cause forever I wanna be my poetic mind type of guy....believe this....I envision my word balled into fists...punching me in the face page by page...tumbling and stumbling into a written mystical lyrical rage...starting through my veins beginning at my wrists....I have this think big book that I dare to keep a list...so I’m never forgetting...only now I’m letting my pen do the meddling...
I’m tethering my teeter tatter chit chatter mixed with my beated in street batter of my matter...cause I really don’t matter...never did never will....wait for my next ink spill...
-Peter T. DeSpirito
Loneliness is a frozen pen
The emptiness of a tabula rasa
While lying in the dark
All of my thoughts come and go in the night,
and the memories of the past
I recite poetry in the night,
No tabula rasa no frozen pen
Too lazy to document these thoughts
I am wrought as I go over and over again
These thoughts I live in my mind
Then I drift into dream, this conception
into this alternate world I whiz
My hand shaking grasping a frozen pen
Blood drips on the white page
Like the thoughts pouring out from this sage
It's the liquid poetry in my soul
"Deja Vu!" I cry, I've been here before
It's dark and cold with no door
"Wake Up!" says the alarm clock
(It's still dark in the room with the drapes drawn)
Lying there, these thoughts before me and the dawn
Not a dream but now part of my memories
As I reach for my frozen pen and jot down these dreams
It's time to get up and get about
Some thoughts I leave behind
To deal with another day in another reverie
The loneliness of a white page creeps into our lives
At times.....thoughts awaiting the writer
The voyeur of dreams....to jot them down
And now the past is in its place
After an all night chase of line and reason
Of rhyme and scheming....lying there again
This tabula rasa and my woozy reveries
* ~Dark Silver Haze~ *
(side#1) (side #2)
come taste life ---------- Heart-warming wine
old and stale, ---------- Jot down a line
unflavored, unpolished, --------- Mood changes hue
A sour, dim shade --------- To sweet silver blue
the lowest feeling ---------- How high the cost
eternal gray sky ---------- How much is lost
hollow memories ---------- Back payment due
A sour, dim shade --------- To sweet silver blue
weak limbs, overpower ------- Head shake and sigh
moments of lights -------- None left to deny
everything ends -------- Insight in view
A sour, dim shade -------- To sweet silver blue
torn from reality -------- Somehow I gain
low spirits of sorrow -------- Beauty from pain
bitter and dull, --------- As thoughts turn to you
A sour, dim shade -------- To sweet silver blue
**A deep Look Into The eyes of the Poet Destroyer**
~A Tim Ryerson Collaboration~
Since childhood my vivid and alluring aspirations
painted my rainbows with different colors,
not the ones I was after and truly adored...
who has ever heard of a teenager being bored?
Anytime I saw a train leave the station with its smooth rhythm,
I wanted to be that conductor who could never fall asleep,
and at every stop he would look carefully before closing the doors...
then, laid-back, watch the changing landscape and whistle his tunes!
If imagination had not been there to tackle my reflective tendencies
that were, indeed, rooted in all aspects of the present wilderness,
I wouldn't have cultivated this passion and turn it into a realistic dream...
which allowed inspiration to enter the subconsciousness of this thinker's realm!
The fast-paced postman delivering mail to mailboxes seldom locked, thrilled me;
he looked so sharp and handsome greeting folks, and it would have been an honor
to chat with them, listening to their suggestions and helping them thoroughly...
I visualized myself as such, and even practiced it daily in front of large mirror!
If tons of ideas hadn't fed the urge to jot down details with ebullient imagery,
unless I wasn't aware of their poignant meaning and powerful message,
I wouldn't have let fantasy create an extraordinary dreamer out of someone so ordinary...
to adorn dullness with my cheerfulness and change winter to spring!
On the slopes of the lush hill
the drowsy magnolias seep
the warm drops of the dew;
they don't expect any rain
for another distant season...
where no hungry lizards creep!
Many of us seek places of harmony,
longing for notes that tantalize emotions,
feeling the caresses of the capricious wind
dispersing the petals of the dogwood trees...
while being captured by the idyllic images
we'll jot down when we'll get very lonely:
and that's something not invented
to feed fantasy, imagination, or folly!
I observe a bold-headed guy walking his dog
and being pulled to various directions,
the chocking beagle needs to get loose
and get wilder than those kids playing,
laughing and throwing pebbles into a river;
will the owner decide to unleash him once,
where there's no danger or menacing raccoons?
He finally lets him loose and the jovial dog starts barking,
chasing the croaking and leaping frogs startled by fear!
The pale-skinned man is getting a blistering sunburn,
having spent two hours without any protection;
he wishes he were swimming in a sea of cool waves,
but he's wearing a maroon cowboy hat and lights
a Colorado Maduro cigar he brought in the town of Lakewood;
he watches its smoke puffs rising high to form a small cloud!
On the slopes of the lush hill
there are no trees, only Daffy-Down-Dillies...
unlike the dandelions down below that bees
avoid when they spot a rascal
Parakeet that feeds on them and bends their stems;
such a scene is rarely seen, never captured by humans!
My poetic life will be inspiring,
After the death of this poet.
I have been writing for years,
For the one’s who don’t know it.
My contributions to the writing world,
Will endure generations to come.
As I flow the words from my heart,
To let people know where I’m from.
Writing is my passion, it’s therapeutic,
And my vent from the hardships of life.
I take my notepad with me to jot down,
The things that inspire me to write.
The world’s beautiful to the eye,
I seldom pass a moment to observe.
I’ve written thousands of poems,
Please accept my donation of words.