Long Kimo Poems
Long Kimo Poems. Below are the most popular long Kimo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kimo poems by poem length and keyword.
Dedicated to all Soup poets and muse - please continue to help and thank you.
I didn’t know how to write poetry as I was new,
only 6 months in the poetry game so no shame,
many a day after writing I was feeling blue,
I thought I was stupid and everybody was to blame.
Met amazing people here and their care is free,
apparently it’s a rhyming thing or not,
it was driving me up the bloody tree,
thanks to all the positive input I got.
I now know more or less what is required,
I tried “Monoku” oh my, what a mess I made,
struggling to write at work almost got fired,
I was so embarrassed, under my desk I laid.
I tried to write a “Haiku”, I cant even say the word,
but nevertheless I tried, what a load of pooh,
valuable comments but almost meant how absurd,
I know why poets go crazy, and what they go through
I tried to write a “Kimo”, hey whatever,
what the hell is that supposed to mean,
but stuck to my guns and did endeavour,
produced what I thought was clever and clean.
I tried to write a “Verse”, was told to call it that,
submitted to contest, no comments, but N/A, again,
like I was talking to a stranger and saying sorry you just spat,
re-looked at my poems, I’m too stupid to give up and I’m vain.
I tried to write a “Sonnet” about my new sweetheart,
apparently it has only fourteen lines and limited syllables,
took so long she almost left me with a new broken heart,
no fuel in my car, and all the McDonald bills.
I tried to write a “limerick” an apparent popular form,
this is supposed to be funny have rhythm and rhyme,
previously for me anything that rhymed was the norm,
for that my English teacher should be smacked for his crime.
Finally I realised that its not just poetry but expressing life,
all you appreciate, love, you find funny and even hate,
your inner feelings, emotions, caring and your strife,
the special people on this site that help and patiently rate.
Now I do endure to write, and appreciate all and thank all,
for their positive input and renaming my form appropriately,
If my poem does not make it in any way or at all,
I don’t care because I am learning and will continue patiently.
Yes I do know the form is supposed to be "Rhyme" not "I do not know" - that is one of the intentions of the poem
Form:
"Father does not see the mournful sad tears,
that fall on a mossy stone;
O, my broken heart weeps.
And I recall running into your open arms a little girl innocent,
you were the first man I loved, and will always be special;
the older I get, the smarter you seem to have been back then,
my anchor, my rock, my protector, my security, my Dad.
Can I ever forget our walks hand-in-hand, in parks and woods,
you taught me to love nature and to see with eyes open;
hours we would sit on a park bench watching life drifting by,
and I would ask you all kinds of silly little girl questions.
Even in death you are my guiding light, my safe harbor,
you left me suddenly I never got to say, I love you Dad;
tearfully, I asked you to forgive me as I held your cold dead hand,
if I hurt you sorry, I forgive you also for all harsh words.
I remember bringing you hot cups of tea out to your workshop,
sitting beside you at your dusty, cobwebby workbench;
admiring your many rows and rows of tin cans and old bottles,
you were always asking Mom for some kind of container.
Mom said, you kept every nail, screw and bolt you ever met,
and I would add- and every board too, and we would laugh;
it was me who cleaned out the workshop, O, the stabbing pain,
I lingered there for days touching things you touched.
Dear LORD, please take care of my Daddy till I get to heaven,
Dad, I brought you a dew-kissed yellow rose from my garden;
of all the flowers Mother grew, you loved the yellow roses best,
laying it gently down on your tomb, I walk away with pride.
It was on that same workbench that I picked up your pencil,
on the day of your death, I wrote a poem about my Daddy;
and that day I left the child who was me behind and became of poet,
an hour after your death in that workshop- I found my Muse.
____________________________________
December 31, 2015
Poetry/Kimo/Verse/Daddy
Copyright Protected, ID 15-740-246-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Tell Us About Your Dad,
sponsor, Judy Konos
First Place
"Father does not see the mournful sad tears,
that fall on a mossy stone;
O, my broken heart bleeds."
And I recall running into your open arms a little girl innocent,
You were the first man I loved, and will always be special;
The older I get, the smarter you seem to have been back then,
My anchor, my rock, my protector, my security, my Dad.
Can I ever forget our walks hand-in-hand, in parks and woods,
You taught me to love nature and to see with eyes open;
Hours we would sit on a park bench watching life drifting by,
And I would ask you all kinds of silly little girl questions.
Even in death you are my guiding light, my safe harbour,
You left me suddenly I never got to say, I love you Dad;
Tearfully, I asked you to forgive me as I held your cold hand,
If I hurt you sorry, I forgive you also for harsh words.
I remember bringing you hot cups of tea out to your workshop,
Sitting beside you at your dusty, cobwebby workbench;
Admiring your many rows and rows of tin cans and old bottles,
You were always asking Mom for some kind of container.
Mom said, you kept every nail, screw or bolt you ever met,
And I would add, and every board too, and we would laugh;
It was me who cleaned out the workshop, O, the stabbing pain,
I lingered there for days touching things you touched.
Dear LORD, please take care of my Daddy till I get to heaven,
Dad, I brought you a dew-kissed yellow rose from my garden;
Of all the flowers Mother grew, you loved the yellow roses best,
Laying it gently down on your tomb, I walk away with pride.
It was on that same workbench that I picked up your pencil,
On the day of your death, I wrote a poem about my Daddy;
And that day I left the child that was me behind and became of poet,
An hour after your death in that workshop I found my Muse.
____________________________________
December 31, 2015
Poetry/Kimo/Verse/Daddy
Copyright Protected, ID 15-740-246-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Tell Us About Your Dad,
sponsor, Judy Konos
First Place
Am I the only one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing?
Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string
Yes, it can soar indeed,
so high, with the wind taking it places,
almost making it forget,
just enjoying the wind rushing through,
lighthearted
The wind drops,
then it gets snared
among tree branches maybe,
or perhaps stuck on a roof or elsewhere
with its string all tangled and knotted,
almost impossible to untangle
if made with paper,
it should be lucky to still be intact,
with nary a tear
more often than not,
it gets ditched in the trash,
the price to pay for
its momentary freedom
Sometimes, though
perhaps a rarity these days,
there is that boy who makes
that kite from scratch,
whittles the sticks himself,
painstakingly forming that frame,
creating that kite with love
So when it does get all tangled up,
that boy still tries so hard to fix it,
to make it new...
never minding the cuts
he gets in the process--
That string not meant to tie down
that kite,
but a lifeline to the boy
But like I said,
that must be a rare thing these days...
For I am one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing...
Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string
** There are many of you who have helped me in my journey in writing, & my heartfelt smiley thanks to all of you but I'd also like to give thank you hugs and smiles to Chris D. Aechtner ^_^ I distinctly remember asking you about Sijo, wow when was that? 2 years ago? Back then, I knew I asked the right person--& from there, you've helped bring to light (& helped me appreciate) a lot of other writing forms, just talking about those forms was a blast, just you sharing some of what you've been learning along the way (& believe me, I've learned even a thing or two! can I just say this? I bet you'd make an awesomely cool teacher :D)-- from sijo, to limericks, to sonnets, to haiku and kimo, to than-bauk to that Grook! ook! Being mainly a free-verse writer, you've helped me diversify & that means a lot to me. So my heartfelt thank you for being there in my poetic journey, and for being my friend :D
oops. that wasn't a couple of lines?! lol
Factory Recall
I looked beyond The Open Door
into a mystical Soul Factory
There amidst the unboxed souls
was Invisible Jim and The Ghost.
The ghost’s skin was reflective like a mirror
allowing me to see The Lines on my Face.
The factory was an unusual place
with floors carpeted in Dandelions
At each station angels sang a Star Baby Lullaby
I asked one “What are you doing?”
She smiled and responded
“I am installing a Patriotic Pause.”
An overhead speaker blared
“It is time for Designated Rain,”
I was careful to protect
the Butterfly in My Pocket.
Workers started moving
so I asked “Where are you going?”
“We are Stepping into The Temple.”
“May I ask Why?” “Sure, we are Searching For Jesus.”
So I followed the Girl With The Quiet Voice.
I was unsure How To Feel,
so I began by Lending Both Hands.
It helped in Finding My Way..
I was then joined by The Borrower.
He Was the one Who I Am
but Some Time we’re not Close Enough to Know.
Perhaps I need some Kimo Therapy
I was directed to Rose in The Garden.
Her roots had Deep Inclinations.
Would I Abandon all for This Dark Lover?
She set me on my Memory Go Round.
That place of Painted Ladies and Weeping
There I searched for Guys Advice in a Fools Paradise
Inside of me A Sense of Emptiness,
still she would become my Favourite Mistake.
She Touched The Water and my soul
becoming My Ocean.
Still I have Unanswered Questions
Some might say a Bad Bargain Made.
At the Soul Factory I left behind
my Church Perfect Surface.
In my Minds Eye the Screen Flickers.
Change Ain’t Easy but now I’m Different.
The breeze Whispered Your Name.
While I was looking for Psychedelic Sound!
No I know why I Can’t Get High Enough.
Instead let me rest in a the place of Chaotic peaceful Thoughts.
There I can sit under the Wisdom Tree
and listen to The Quiet One.
That garden where angels do the Butterfly Dance.
I long to languish there in Rainbow Coloured Camouflage.
By Richard Lamoureux
I wrote this one for Charlie’s contest using my titles from past poems. I didn’t read the directions properly so wrote another one that I entered.
nature, storm, boat, clothes, house, water
AWASH AND AWAY! © KIMO
Listen, Katrina will come inland
Katrina has come to play
Playgrounds underwater
Sleepy times put asunder
Bedclothes hung out in tree tops, upended
Held fast in forked boughs
Homesteads beached, broken
Swirl and swell in amongst debris
They become crippled and tainted
A brew of pestilent plagues builds unwanted
It lies in wait to contaminate!
Katrina's force sings out old-time nursery rhymes
To be carried out on the wings of fate
Questing and calling for ownership
On today’s horrific wake!
“ROCK A BYE BABY, IN A TREE TOP, When the wind blows……..”
“BYE BABY BUNTING, DADDY'S GONE AHUNT'N---
To catch a little…….”
“Little Bo-Peep has Lost Her Sheep---
Where or where can she find it”?
“Where, Oh Where has my little dog
gone---”?
“I'LL Huff and Puff and Blow You’re House Down
Not By, ‘The Hair of My Chin-Chin-Chin”!
“Ring around the Rosie,
A Pocket Full Of Posies---
Hush-ah, we all FALL DOWN!”
“Rain, Rain Go Away,
Come Back Another Day!”
"K", My Name Is "K A T R I N A"
And I went INLAND!
"K", My Name Is Also "Killjoy"
I Am Made Of Wind and Water and Sand!
Uh, where's that "PEA GREEN BOAT”?
"K", is for Kettle
AND I BLEW ALL TO KINGDOMCOME!
“TEA FOR TWO….
AND YOU FOR ME!”
"K", is for Kaput
And it was about my Karma!
"HUMPTY DUMPTY sat on a wall,
HUMPTY DUMPTY" had a great fall---
AND ALL THE KINGS HORSES, AND.....?”
"K", is also for Kindred Waters
And I am vast
You were the KINGPIN
‘KEYSTONES’ NOW LIE IN MY WAKE!
“KNICKY, KNICKY 9 DOORS-“
“COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE?”
“LAST ONE OUT IS A DIRTY ROTTEN EGG?”
I double dare you to tread again
“Rover, Rover you can’t come over!”
“STEP ON A CRACK AND YOU BREAK YOUR ‘MUDDERS’ BACK!”
“Itsy Bitsy Spider
Went Up the Water Spout-
Down Came the Rain,
And Washed The Spider Out....
Out Came the Sun and Dried Up All the ‘Pain’
“ITSY BITSY SPIDER
WENT UP THE SPOUT AGAIN!”
....didee© Verse
A smile full of charm
A look full of meanings
Words full of guidance
Actions full of reliance
Hand shake full of warmth
Thoughts of you, filling up my mind
that is all what makes you
My elite charming, extraordinary
magnificently adorable Prince charming...
But nothing comes out of perfection
and so does you, me, and our life
one day you cut my soul,
lead my heart to bleed with a deep cut
with simple goodbye words as sharp as a sword
leaving me in the middle of no where
all alone in the world
leaving me with no obvious vision
but the faith inside of me
which is lightening my dark nights
which is accompanying me in my lonely nights..
Could it be you who did this
could it be you my harming prince charming?
Yes!! Why not!!
We are humans after all!
Sometimes we take wrong decisions
But we should know when to back them off!!
I promised you one day that I will always be there
Make the impossible, Possible
And here I am running for the promise
I one day made to you, with all of my heart
I am baring everything,
Re-holding the grip and will never ever
Let our love by no means slip..
Just trying to help you see the way
Of fixing mistakes
And curing what we thought we broke!
I wont look to the empty half of the cup
I wont tell you, I will never forgive,
I will never in you, put again my trust
No I wont say that…
Because what we have is True, pure,
Forgivable, trustable LOVE…
Just because a person like me, and like you
Deserves a second chance in this life
Which we shall create by ourselves
And I am ready to make everything all new
Because of you..
Because I decided to dedicate my world TO YOU!!
You taught me what I now know
You helped me be the person I am
That is why I shall forgive and forget
All the moments that just went
And have a new start with you
And no one else…
Just because I found my life IN YOU!
But just promise…
You will never ever let go
You will never surrender to the
Harming Prince Charming again…
*Image of Palm Tree Lights Trunk Wrap by Christmas Lights, Etc.
ILMO Our Eldest Brother Kimo (James)
Our sixties Christmas--as my memory serves, where
our eldest brother freshly cut one Norfolk Pine from
our country grove. He then rope-tied it atop our "65
Dodge station wagon. Brother plays the ukelele as
dad drives us home with "Banana" barking out back
at tailgaters.
Our home in town has a driveway that curves uphill
from the avenue. Entangled large 60's Christmas lights
wrap around the trees. Then they are roped to each of
the other trees up the drive. My eldest brother then
nailed holiday-adorned Menehunes to the trees. He had
made them in his high school woodshop class, --as
Christmas elves.
Higher up the drive was a largely lei-decked Santa
wearing just his swimming shorts surfing on his board,
while dolphins pulled an outfitted Christmas canoe
laden with gifts. It was a car stopper and the talk
of the town.
The livingroom Norfolk Pine had an army of Hawaiian
Christmas bells. Again, my eldest brother carved-out
coconut shells that were then cut in half and each was
threaded with a fishing line where a seashell dangled
at its end.
The tree was adorned with an assortment of seashells
having varied shapes, sizes, and colors. Freshwater
pearls were glued to draping light-green seaweeds.
They shine like silvery Christmas strands. They are
pale in contrast to the dark-green-colored Norfolk Pine.
Our Christmas in Hawaii lasted until 1969 after Vietnam.
That is when we started celebrating our family Christmas
on the mainland, --save one. ~~Aloha Brother
*An irreplaceable Christmas period to be remembered always...
2022 December 15
*1st Place*
Christmas Spirit
~~Regina McIntosh: Judging 2022 December 19
Sometimes, I roam a lush green forest...
in my mind; birds sing a chorus
Being one with nature and admiring
it's magnificent splendor;
all it has to offer
Sometimes I envision...
surrendering freely
to the beauteous wilderness.
Once in a blue moon, I'd hike
up the mountains
where the rarified air is thin.
I'd sit at the summit
in a tabula rasa state of mind
as if lost in time;
surveying
the vast sea
of tall green trees.
I'd picture myself
standing
at the top
with my hands
outstretched
like Leonardo DiCaprio
in the movie, "Titanic,"
exclaiming...
"I'm the king of the world!"
magnificent sights
wilderness envisioning...
in full surrender
Writing Challenge - Nature, Four In One - Poetry Contest (Winner: 1st Place)
Forms: Crystalline(9/8), Kimo(10/7/6), Verse, Haiku(5/7/5)
Syllables checked at www.HowManySyllables.com
Sponsored by Constance La France
Themes chosen: Forest, Trees & Birds
Date written: 09/06/2020
As exemplary as a High Priest
and consecrated as a Temple's Inner Chamber.
Respected amongst his colleagues,
reverenced by His subordinates,
distinguished, honorable and set apart.
Then came the moment of Truth
like the refining fire which may burn or may purify.
A Golden Opportunity never to be seen again,
but a situation to break or to make him.
This is Crude Diamond Ore from a glance
already anticipating to do it at once
creating an allabi with occurrence in France
and covering all traces in utmost Brilliance
Not minding his activated self-repugnance
certainly it will give birth to wealth and public acceptance.
If Life gave him more options, he'd freelance.
But with this one opportunity, he'd like to dance.
Having no qualms; even if he disappoints his fans.
He isn't to be blamed if Life is not a balance
and success among all has no concomittance.
This is the start to his enjoyment galore
but can be forever hunted by the Law.
The heaped pressure pressing more and more,
but what the Hell! It's just one flaw.
With a blessing so raw,
attached with bountiful Harvest he never saw.
Thinking of his glory and celebration
and already holding his blessing
like a woman in lactation
yet a part of him suppresses
his whole in castigation
making him feel so useless
like a man facing castration
forcefully taking his freedom
and peace in extortion
Just about to make the decisive move,
he resisted the push and forgot about the groove
having in mind, something to prove
he signed the blank cheque without adding another "0"