Long Laughs Poems
Long Laughs Poems. Below are the most popular long Laughs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Laughs poems by poem length and keyword.
(This is a fictional poem)
My seventeen year old son has been getting his ### kicked.
When I learned who is whooping him, I felt sick.
It's a six year old girl who is giving him his beatings.
My son is a wimp and he allows these whoopings to keep repeating.
When I learned that my son is a coward, it made me mad.
He's a little ##### and I think that's bad.
That six year old girl beats him up and takes his lunch money.
Everybody laughs because they think it's funny.
This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen.
The time has come for me to intervene.
He's making himself look like a fool.
I'm going to take the crybaby out of that school.
Form:
The Merry And Springy Ant---
Whose ant is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch him laugh. I cry hello.
He gives his ant a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The ant is merry, springy and deep,
But he has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to him cheap.
He rises from his gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in his head,
He eats his jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead
3/9/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019
Lying in bed with thoughts in my head, talking to Z, the girl only I can see.
She laughs at the moon and whispers to shadows, flickers at the edge of dreams.
“Quiet down down there!” someone shouts from above, either from the ceiling or the sky, I can’t tell which.
But the noise is all in here, boiling behind my eyes.
Stayed up late talking to the voices, at first a gentle hum, then a flood.
They wore no names, just wind-tattered echoes until Z said, “That one was your great grandfather .”
I stilled.
And suddenly, the noise felt older than me.
Carried on the breath of the dead. A lineage of longings passed down like lullabies no one finished singing.
They asked for things: closure, remembrance, a place to rest.
One voice tried to take me. Moved my tongue. Twitched my hand.
Like slipping into an old coat that no longer fits but still remembers your shape.
Z held my hand, her grip unreal and real enough.
“They just don’t want to be forgotten,” she said.
“You’re the first who’s listened.”
The room stayed dark. The ceiling didn’t shout again.
And I lay awake, mind on fire, heart echoing back a hundred years of unheard names.
I diffidently conjure the sorrowful emerald entity
from the deepest depths of my elbow of despair.
I do not abhor her, but I also do not trust her.
Likewise, I rather revere and worship her.
She validated my grief when I was in the wailing keening stage.
Sapphire orbs transmogrify into lilting, lively, lovely butterflies.
Porcelain staunchness furthers her into an aloof position.
Astonish me, she whispers, in an ethereal, frightening way.
Or admonish me, she says a little too loudly. Then she laughs.
It is a maniacal laugh that frightens me.
I watch this amazingly mystical, magical creature evolve
and revolve during the crescent moon’s change of clothes.
There is a sense of wonder, yet, also a feeling of regret
Possibly remorse?
She admirably fills the corners of my grief state
There is a glimpse of enthusiasm, a quick interval.
I devote myself to the task of understanding
the sensitivity of her resolve and revolve.
For she has been to visit me many times.
And I have no doubt she will return.
God never said.
"And let their be technology to rule
the world."
Technology has no commandments.
It's a selfish piece of trash.
it's meant to separate you from friends
and family.
With bleeps, jokes and pictures
To replace their loving presence.
There is no love in an iPad..
So, who is behind all this?
He, the one,who wants to overthrow God
And take his place.
He who wants you to believe you
can live anyway you choose.
There is no morality, just pleasure.
There is no uniqueness, no human
treasure
He who laughs at goodness but honors
evil
So that ......the Spriit within us
Is choked, silenced and never seen.
5/10/2019
11:45am PST
Eye in the sky screams "dreams are not reality;" yet it flies impossibly on whirling bionic wings. "the force is a fantasy," laughs the big screen; yet it motions this ironically through ionic streams. "No power in an evergreen," shrills the factory; cutting from the same cloth that had allowed us to breathe. "That vision? A symptom of insanity;" suggests the PHD, and recommends fixing something so deeply rooted by consuming this repeatedly; denying this notion is the very definition of what you suppose we carry. "But don't you want to bee with everybody?" Whisper the walls and empty streets. Could it be that everything is simultaneously, as stone lock and river key? Would it seem that all we need to coax the dread of uncertainty, is to each weave threads of teachings, unique? Bound with an understanding sure as gravity, until we are warm in the cold of infinity, in a quilt of minds set free.
In a strong marriage, a long marriage
much cannot be said, should not be said.
The spots on one's skin will be wisely ignored.
Differences of opinion are tolerated, not debated.
Your memories may disappoint your partner
as not those she has selected, refracted.
Over dinner for two at the Mill on the Floss
it could be dangerous to compare wills, losses.
Or it might result in belly laughs, Shakespearean
revelations, the night he got us lost in the woods
or she peed her pants at a party. The marriage was Faustian,
in a good way, like going to a job in the Garden of Eden.
Having survived 25 years, knowing 50's impossible,
what else do we know? Raised 2 boys, painted 3 houses.
takes out it's loaded gun
shoots holes in us for fun
daring us to try and run
time
knows the game and plays it well
watches from the side or there about
has us play against ourselves
time
laughs at you in your shame
takes delight in giving pain
whispers to the passing wind your name
time
is the wicked stepchild
the mad dog running wild
the haunt in the midnight howl
time
takes what you offer, gives back no change
feels that it must rearrange
places on you all the blame
time
holds tight to lost memory
takes it's que from history
spits on you before it leaves
time
draws on another cigarette
exhales the stench of death
till up in smoke is all that's left
Nothing so strong, yet so gentle as love.
It can be as deep as the ocean
Yet as wide as the sky, and was given
By god to you and I.
There is nothing so strong as the love
Of a parent for their child.
From the moment of birth, when you look
Into their eyes and feel the strings
Of your heart pulling in every direction
And you want to give them your love and protection.
When you hold that newborn for the very first time
And your eyes fill with tears and you want to cry.
When that child laughs with you, and you feel
Like you’ve waited for this your whole life through.
That is when you will see that there is
Nothing so strong than to have your family.
Staring in the mirror I smile
But the reflection does not smile back
It laughs
It starts dragging me down my path
The laugh is chilling
Shaking me to my core
It opens the door
A reflection flashes through
A reflection of my past
A memory so deep
A secret I keep
It wants to do a trade
I don't know what to say
I can't let my secret see the light of day
She proposes a deal
So sinister and cold
I have to trade my youth and become old
Do I trade away
I don't know what to say
I can't let my secret out
But I can't become old
I already lost my youth
Should I speak the truth
I was mentally ill at the time
And yes it was a crime
But I didn't mean to do wrong
I don't want anyone to hear my song
The reflection creeps a creepy smile
Telling the truth would be worth my while
I don't take the trade
I rather reveal my past
I laugh
I don't care if anyone knows what I've done
It has gone
I paid for my crimes
I've done my time
The bell has chimed
Goodbye to my past self
Hello to my new self
I see what you tried to do
I smash the mirror
We are through