Long Juxtapose Poems
Long Juxtapose Poems. Below are the most popular long Juxtapose by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Juxtapose poems by poem length and keyword.
Tug-of-War
Alpha Dog
Carnivore
Locked our horns
Power struggle
Crown of thorns
Neither bows nor bends nor folds
Instead digs their heels
Leans in and holds
Under weights of worlds shouldered
Beneath catching fires smoldered
They juxtapose
Until the end
And so it goes
Protect; defend
Both yearning to submit, surrender
Though, coward, that would them then render
So instead they hold strong their positions
Each declaring their conditions
Never has this strategy
Ended anyway but tragedy
So each side is shocked and shorn
Strewn about, tattered, torn
Daughters, Mothers and Wives scorn
From empty houses
Alone; forlorn
Forever after they will wait
By the fire
Or at the gate
Until the day they receive
News, that from this horror,
There's no reprieve
Sixty thousand pounds
One hundred sixty horses
Snorting like leviathan
On uncharted courses
Eleven feet of width
Thirty-two of reach
Tank-like tracks that crush the rock
With a metallic screech
Carving up the hillside
With the greatest ease
Playing toss with boulders
Plucking up huge trees
A tree that falls is heard
Some even make a sigh
A sound that makes me wince
I will not tell a lie
Progress can be brutal
On nature, we intrude
We like to make an entrance
Loud and brash and rude
I tell myself the openings
Make room for trees to grow
Or so I justify;
I’m pretty good, you know
Deftly flicking boulders
Smoothing out the dirt
Yard by yard he moves along
Master craft at work
It’s not for the timid
Or the faint of heart
Carving trails on mountainsides
Truly is an art
We’ve started every morning
Briefly, with a prayer
For Shawn and for his safety
And for God’s presence there
Hard to juxtapose
Stewardship, dominion:
The beauty there down in the vale,
Diesel-powered pinions
In time, the forest will forget
And cover up our scars
For now, I walk His wooded trail
At night, beneath His stars.
Critics
Wrote a poem in the sand,
Wonder how it fares if left alone,
Will it bear on its own merits
Or juxtapose by meddling hands,
Meantime, sun-dries it again,
Wind shifts it broad and thin,
Indelible puddles left by rain,
Sand critters pop out and in,
A boy and his ball rolls along,
With a long sigh, looks on down,
Builds a sandcastle then leaves,
Ebbtide gone, flood tide flows cleanly,
I returned, stood and discern,
Comme ci, comme ca, c'est la vie.
14th line English translated from French, "Like this, like that, that is life."
05/09/2019
*POTD*
~~Team PoetrySoup
*6th Place*
old poems, FREE VERSE (003)
~~Poet Destroyer A
Colour intermingled
in the spectator’s eye
divisions juxtapose
‘as is’ moment ..dot.. by dot..
frozen forever
as a ‘still-life’ shot
Colours in contrast
one next
to another
patiently painted
dab by dab
Planes into particles
pigments of paint
in patches react
divisionist,
pointillist juxtapose
into our eye colour flows.
Meticulous,mechanical
the illusion
into shape
palettes of the fleeting
made permanent
Pointillist People
louis hayet
alfred finch&
verhaeren
.. then
georges lemmen
angrand henri cross
van de velde &
albert dubois-pillet
& lets
not forget
camille&lucien
father&son pissarro
you may know
maximillan luce
jan toorup&
van rysselberghe
& you'll already heard
of
signac &seurat
stand so tall
pointillistas*
one&all
Colours in contrast
one next
to another,
patiently painted
dab by dab.
Cyan, magenta
yellow and key
illume the picture we see.
Planes into
particles,pigments of paint
in patches react
divisionist pointillist
juxtapose
into our eye
distinct colour flows
Meticulous mechanical
eye into mind defined
the illusion into shape.
In palettes of
permanance
the fleeting flies
sans such subtraction
luminosity lives
Seurat, and Signac’s
legacy survives
The Present Juneteenth & The 4th...
Beginning with the celebration
Of our Juneteenth,
We prepare a new perspective
For the 4th of July:-
Though this nation now stands stalled
On the brink,
That she is also our nation too, there
Can be no lie!
What a uniqueness her oppressed people
Now share?
Two juxtapose emancipation celebrations
Back-to-back
Going from these times, only the future knows
To where:-
Oh what an interesting time it is for those of us
Born black—
And indigenous ones contemplating it all in utter
Amazement!
As for us, our eyes on the prize focus must remain
In the present;
No more standing around in a whine:- It’s celebration
Time!
P.S.: Remember this, my Lady and Sir:-
Indeed, “…We may not be
where we want to be;
we may not be
where we ought to be;
we may not be
where we gonna be;
but praise God! We ain’t
where we once were!”
No particular rhyme nor,
reason explains to boot
within mind of this (boyish
looking) ole coot,
why sudden flashback didst
kickstart metered metrical foot
when during bout with anorexia nervosa,
I did not give a hoot
analogously harried and swiftly kicked
with barebones styled tailored jackboot.
Said eating disorder, sans
self starvation arose
without explicit explanation
this grown man tries
till he gets himself bluenose
to recapitulate an ill fate,
he conveniently chose
still baffled, thus
without aversion disclose,
silence of echoes
confidential matter
I willingly expose,
said trauma that
nearly did foreclose
emotionally mortgaged corporeal property
boarded figurative
windows, whereat up goes
for sale sign testament to
recalcitrant stalwart hardnose
father and mother felt
obligation to interpose
lest premature demise,
would invariably juxtapose
dealing mortal psychological
(albeit unfair) blow
to parents plus two sisterly kiddoses
perhaps family pets (cats and dogs),
whose meows and lows
punctuating equilibrium
volunteering, (when suicide
gripped stranglehold)
spurring personal tragedy
with sincere manifestoes
(mainly not a verse
to dabble with poetry)
striving to cater to nonheroes
to thwart tragedy, whose nose
(mine) sniffs fallout mainly upon me
woebegotten life somber
(time to cue oboes),
asper the plethora of
influences that predispose
one in the throes
of adolescent experiencing
oh ma dog...gushing hormones
analogous to young lives
loose then taut like mama's yoyos!
Your most recent interest in observational truth in laptop monitor
Gave you an ultimatum today.
He , as she, in he, as she again, grabbed you in all kinds of tree ,
remnant there before serenity
What is poetry, in the end?
Thinkable pedagogy, is , for the most bizarre reason, telling you
That this is comparable prepositions, with positionality
And the fruit of loom, or something relatable, there.
I felt a bang , and got a downsizing pounding sound,
Between, Jerusalem, Nazareth and prepaid Jesus to pay
More and more for a daycare say.
For a sip from the cup of the finest exported loose leaf tea
Are you a mere sip there, or you started to travel there, onsite
Creating all kinds of copyright issues, as the illegibility
Never declared you anywhere, in norms, in mother’s winter coat
Exactly how much was fatherly charm there, and how much there was a mere setting warmth
As people learn to happen in alibi as there is no straightforward way to find a definition or vision
Your cat was unthinkably your budget failure key, as they mew and sigh
But they were there, truly, with your most delicate caring try.
I think it is a joking endowment
As it will be a mere lump some .
Your rides and ride share with the knight rider storyteller
Only comparable to Little Red Riding hood
Changing the destined persona too, irreversible and altogether
I do not blame , judge , or juxtapose, there, I never pity too
But Bangla, and exactly 21 years long stay on this territory, with often heavy Bangla
I think I dreamt you last night, where you , as a soul and Clover, in a body
Did happen as the most charismatic duo! With a Zulkarnine monitor truth in!
Licking on the other side for hours and hours in longer duration
Will lead nowhere , exactly nowhere , other than, this, mortal life
Is a conscious choice between claim, proclaim and proclamation
I am a reluctant reader there, trying to look through, even beyond allegory and alighieri
You do not hold them accountable for your compositional hype for a dirge
That does not act linearly with your issue room, tissue room, and culture vulture too!
All you can say should stay there, for ever.
Do not send help reaching out there, never there
Simply a one liner truth for falling short from a papyrus poem, anyway
As this must be helping to internalize, more than anything than that.
To, William Arthur Philip Louis
If there was just one thing I could change
I would request an odd divinity to ferment in an Elixir
Which never intoxicate, nor take the state beyond rationality
No one is an aftermath of coping, coping in understanding , way upstream.
As fallen shadows on a puddle of rainwater have nowhere to move or shift
Only a hazy vibrations tell them a lot, as eloquence are often that, just that
I can take a book that belongs to you, even without passing the faith test
And outside, the lonely balcony and a streak of a moonlit story, is still viable
I will wait for you there, your warmth, shirt and your a bit hardened posture these all,
I can still try to smell hair oil that slowly calms down a bird nest, in a placid way
And you can still surmise, after all these are turned down, and burned down,
“I was thinking about her, as, she could be a better one!”
Am I a transcribed poem? I often think these days.
Am I a sound, like an abacus on a motif, that knew today, gathering yesterday or before
As sunlight, dimmed prayer bids, these all are reaching, till none or nothing are there, in further need of anything
To debate, derail or to juxtapose even, in any specific way
I can rub your wrinkled skin, and wrinkle free attire, too.
You and I, and the nemo in an axis, of a world, as a dipthong, somewhere
The inevitable, frequency and the outlier, befitting for a fitting remnants!
Copyright © Tamanna Ferdous | Year Posted 2024
Journey starts
Kunming portraits;
Highway song
Here old and new
Merge yet apart;
Vignettes juxtapose
China welcomes
Both ancient and modern;
Sign of the times
Tour group confronts
Unfamiliar grounds;
Rough edges grind
Quaint ways of old
Ancient tales displaced;
Modern day norms intervene
Spectacular vistas
Natural wonders;
Man seems insignificant
Flood tide drowns
Flushing away;
False assumptions destroyed
Gust of wind
Reveals new passages;
Knowing does not know
Mountain peaks
Valleys well-clustered;
Fertile grounds well-used
Everywhere we go
People of all tribes;
A Chinese pageant
Human nature speaks
Polite tones sway;
Touch of humble quiet
These Chinese people:
Kind, warm, hospitable --
A touch of home
Himalayan backdrop
Mountains for company;
Melodrama purged
Methinks that I
Could hideaway here;
Unknown, undisturbed
One sure currency:
The Chinese language;
Pervasive, ubiquitous
Vast is the land
Far as our eye span;
Beyond imagery
Trades of all sorts
Risk is a sure thing;
Living is risky business
Ancient towns
Showpieces that speak;
In steady silence
Rivers and streams
Winding into quaint towns;
Ancient as old time
Pulse of the moment
Camera shutter snapshots;
Still life captured
Picture posture
By this arched bridge;
Keepsake souvenir
Sensory pursuits
Old Town bazaars;
Hasty trinkets acquired
Silver artisans
Hammer away;
Creations of white metal
Bric-bracs scattered
Awaiting curious eyes;
That impulse buy in tow
Round this village
Tourist show piece;
Modern commerce prevails
Bargains await
Hungry customers;
Weathered Oriental wares
In this roundabout square
Locals and tourists stride;
Seek new-found distractions
Spring time weather
Hot and dry and windy;
Like home without humidity
Our tour guide --
Cautions that silver jewellery
Best bought from reputable shops
Cheap price often
Compromises quality;
Authentic stuff cost much more
Lessons unlearnt
On-the-road trade routes;
Return odd regrets
A silver bangle
Heavy with 99 percent;
Quality speaks tons
Scattered eateries
Street vendors offer;
Glimpses that never die
So much to see,
Words fail description;
Feelings explore facts
Only ten days here
We see yet do not see;
Only vague interpretations
All too soon
Sojourn over;
Yunnan in mind mists
Leon Enriquez
31 May 2014
Singapore
Juxtapose
Just suppose we have to
Jurisprudentially
Juxtapose guilt and innocence before a
Jury of our peers. The prosecution will attack with the
Jawbone of an a** and the nattering nabobs of the news media will
Journalistically
Jabberwocky their opinions which no one will understand. Meanwhile the
Joyless defense team will try to
Justify their client’s motives by
Jackhammering the evidence to fit their presentation, claiming the
Jimsonweed he smoked caused him to be a
Jailbreaker and escape the clutches of the law. Let us hope the
Jackanapse has learned his lesson and
Justice will prevail