Long Lear Poems
Long Lear Poems. Below are the most popular long Lear by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lear poems by poem length and keyword.
Idiosyncratic Introspection
Fear turned inward can only eventually present outward in its expression
Tears are trepidatious when dealing with years of emotional repression
Lear as in the King was another vehicle for literary confession
Clear as water from a river bed that keeps your mind flowing in thoughtful procession
Culmination of such tension brings a terse clambering of sounds
Rumination on your own inventions can lead to both the unhinged and profound
Illumination in the name of prevention guilds a scientific crown
Communication is hardly mentioned as they debate with philosophical frowns
Conclusions directed toward the students whose goals are far beyond the struggling horizon
Confusion misdirected in the name of prudence like foals first footsteps that can’t be relied on
Protrusion like a mathematical equation that a rival department has its eye on
Collusion of a political statement that should be questioned with the skeptical lights on
Twighlight passing over brings reflection through the cascading brilliant light
The bright commanding future evolves into a sacred sight around midnight
I might stop remaining that I suture my own wounded soul to heal all of this fright
And take a moment to be refraining in the silence of the height of my delight
The End by Elizabeth Moroz Copyright
the great bard and Elizabethan play wright
begetting complete dramaturgy
explaining fate hollowly airtight
succor starved, riddled smitten tattered
sir real body politik blight
under whelming enthusiasm
witnessed blank quarto copyright
more tragedy than comedy
visited mine biography to date
expressed as dearth
decayed delight
devoid absent audience
hip...hip...hooray
three chairs to excite
zero non-exhaustive effort
summoning stagecraft
imagining hardened
faced spectators
muted nonexistent ovation,
sans anticlimactic action
superfluous stage fright,
thus retrospective stance taken
billeted envisioned
anachronistic gunfight
signifying emotional crisis,
especially high anxiety
pained height
incorporating mine every birthday
newly aged since
LIX January
thirteenth orbitz insight
oppressive ominous gloomy glum
obscuring highland dale light
whereby substantial sole action
asper arrival of midnight
celestial curtain call enclosing
somber static theatrical night
hoop fully explaining deadening
copious heavy breathing
followed by extended lapses
of utter silence outright
spartan mise en scene
absent agit props
nsync with holographic thespians
staid theatrics displaying plight
uneventful sleepy representation quite
leaving entire cast
(singular char actor his shun
of myself) remaining
soporific steadfastly right
lee measure for measure
much ado about nothing
hermetically sealed, NON GMO
vacuum packed no sight
worth seeing on the twelfth night
starkly barren aimless
padlocked mortal soul asylum
no, not even Romeo and Juliet
love's labor's lost passion
a comedy of errors,
viz unbridled trothplight
mock king lear ring alls well that ends well
where me crushed psyche doth unite
with death vis a vis
as demise of Julius Caesar
et tu Brutus I in vite.
Lear's & Lemo's
Written: By Tom Wright
1/4/99
With what we have
seems we're never content,
We reach for plastic
when our money is spent.
With more month than money
we'll figure the float,
Then like Investment Bankers
sit back and gloat.
We dream of a Lear Jet
or a chauffeured Lemo,
For we're tired of traveling
by truck to and fro.
While appearing content
we're reaching for more,
And what we can't spend
we'll invest or store.
We borrow from Peter
so we can pay old Paul,
Inwardly denying we're broke
just badly bent, that's all.
Money is at the root of all evil
I've heard it said true enough,
That must be why we hurry
to get rid of the stuff.
We return from the mall
with scrapes that bleed,
Packing all of our booty
most of which we don't need.
After an hour of unloading
with each thing in It's place,
It's painfully obvious
we need more cabinet space.
But we feel good for our part
toward combating inflation,
For while buying things on "sale"
we've helped save our nation.
But come the first of the month
we're paying bills again,
Then heading to the mall,
for to save would be sin.
So cut up your plastic,
and continue driving your truck,
Buy only what you need,
try saving that other buck.
While we dream of chauffeured Limos
and of Lear Jets to fly,
Truth is, we're extremely lucky
if ends meet and we get by.
I
Ne-
Ver
Want-ed
You to wo-rry a-bout me
I
Am
A-shamed...
Li-tter-al-ly
ig-nored...
so bored
Shar-pen me like a sword
In-ject ink in my blood
I will not cuss..
I will not fuss...
I will not wo-rry...
For, tru-lly
I am true with my-self
I am glued to my low self-i-mage
I am u-gly...
I am not hand-some
Like the rest...
Cuz I tried my har-dest
To write my ve-ry best po-e-try...
Guilt o-ver-flowz
Ne-ver fails...
Ne-ver fails...
Ne-ver fails...
Feel me...
Touch me...
I am numb and dumb
I am the scum...
Of the Earth...
I neeeeeeed God's ha-ven-like mirth
I wish I was not a-live
The curse of my birth as I've
Seen in the mir-ror
I am in err-or
I am like a game with a glitch
I can act like, oh no, a *****
O-pen the door
I a-dore
Leave. Me. A-lone.
Wait.
Wait.
My eyes glow-er
I grow on like a Spring flow-er
E-ver-y sin-gle ho-ur
Seed, I am...
Plant me in the river like a damn...
Cuz I real-ize...
I am as bo-ther-some as a mill-i-on flies
No more bi-dding me guh-byes
I am u-nigue
I am stoo-pid
Get rid
Of this a-nger boil-ing in me...
Get OUT of ME
Soothe me down
Massage my frown
And uplift it
Ascend thy lips
Descend thy hips
Wings of win-ter glow and grow
Lear-ning how to deal
With the pain so un-real
Now, e-ver-y-bo-dy knowz
Where the wi-cked wind blowz
I am dead in-side
But, alive in the out-side
I look in-ward
then, I look out-ward
I am awk-ward...
Like being friends with a bird
When I am the ant...
Lear-ning all o-ver a-gain
Like a cute in-fant
Like the one right next to me.
I en-ded it on a bri-ghter note at least.
This verse is mi-ghty beast.
I asked my Mother
on a cool, gray blue morning
what Projections are,
the projections of passions
pouncing proudly
within the poetry of reality,
She said, with woed eyes,
Sometimes peoples' brains
become burdened like a mirror
with too many faces to appease,
disease from judgement, the jeer,
the lear, fear of another's unempathetic ear,
the stress to confess our duress,
our confusion of camellion countenance,
so we project pictures into the lenses
of other's law fire,
pictures that protect us from uninvited pain,
I watched the corner of her mouth
divet from the embarrassment
of disillusionment,
She continued with necessary nerve,
We also judge ourselves into volatile
escapes that steer us away
from vulnerability's virtue,
we create self fullfilling prophecies
of people's positions on our hearts,
We sometimes conjure demons
of self defeat that feast fast
on the devestation of our desires
cackling at the carcass
of our crashed confidence,
My Mother looked at me slow,
with a low heat in her voice, saying
You must trust Yourself
to be Yourself...
J.A.B. 2023
THE PUSSY CAT AND THE OWL
(With apologies to Edward Lear)
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a Sealink Hovercraft.
They took some hash and plenty of cash
Wrapped up in a banker’s draft.
The Owl looked up to Telstar above
And played to an electric guitar.
“I’d like to take you to Capri Pussy love,
But the lead wouldn’t reach that far - that far, that far.
But the lead wouldn’t reach that far.”
Pussy said to the Owl, “It’s perfectly foul,
The discords you play on that thing.
But I’d still like to marry - it’s your baby I carry.
We’d better look out for a ring.”
They sailed that night to the Isle of Wight.
The place where the tourist goes.
And there on the quay, a Punk they did see
With ring through the end of his nose.
Owl said, “Do you agree to sell for 5p your ring?”
Said the Punk, “I will not.”
So, unable to wed, they cohabit instead
With a commune at Cowes - in a squat.
They dine on the floor and have yoghurt galore
Which they eat with a white plastic spoon.
Then - with a new partner each, they go down to the beach
And smoke pot by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon.
And smoke pot by the light of the moon.
20th December 2020
Parody of a Famous Poem contest
Sponsor - L Milton Hankins
Thomas Aquinas ,a 13th century Italian friar first recorded use of the anapestic meter in the AABBA form with prayers in Latin until Edward Lear used theform for humourous verse.The title Limerick is more uncertain but might have aconnection to the Irish town of that name
ORIGINS
There once lived a friar,Thomas of Aquino
in latin,did his poetry flow
In a prayer anapestic
this form was to stick
until Lear gave AABBA ,a go
ALONG THESE LINES
There was a young man from France
who led his friends a fine dance
Some thought him a prude
others said he was rude
Looking at him quite askance
J-ust another morn breaks,
E-arly sunrise has begun;
A-scending from the east,
N-ew light brings much fun.
N-ight cold chill is over as the twilight fades from sight;
E-vening shadow passes by to let the flame burn so bright.
M-arch twenty-fourth turns fine
A-fter the storm goes away;
R-ain stops from falling;
C-lear clouds prove your
H-appy birthday.
M-ist has just disappeared,
A-ir haze is nowhere to find;
C-harming views seen in you
A-re truly easing my mind.
Y-ews in the vast meadow
A-im to stay evergreen;
N-ice image of the rainbow brings colors to a beautiful scene.
To prepare a Limerick stew,
You need to find three rhymes, then two.
You arrange them in order (the three form the border)
Just like Edward Lear used to do.
Always check the syllable count,
For you must have the right amount.
To perform with aplomb, check “How many dot com”
And afterwards always re-count
With the preparation complete,
If you’re sure the layout is neat,
Turn the oven to four, then close up the door
And give the thing two hours to heat.
Your Limerick’s done, that is that.
And it’s time to learn it off pat.
Now it’s opening night and you start to recite.
Let’s hope that it doesn’t go flat.
William Shakespeare's plays, as most people know
have been around for four hundred years or so.
The Bard wrote plays that were comedies.
He also composed works that are tragedies.
"Twelfth Night" and "As You Like It" are in the former category.
"Romeo and Juliet" would be considered a tragedy.
Both kinds of plays were written with great quality.
"Hamlet", "Julius Caesar", "Othello" and "King Lear"
are what most folks prefer, it would appear.
This makes me want to ask: "what's going on here?"
Preference for tragedies I cannot see;
especially with all the shootings in the news recently.
Over "Macbeth", I like "Much Ado About Nothing".
In the end, all the characters dance and sing.
Two couples get married, and wedding bells ring.
Oh how wonderful it is to have a happy ending!
Nobody gets killed, and everything turns out nice.
Doesn't anybody here like to throw rice?
Inspired by Shakespeare's works and the 1960 hit song "Let's Think About Living" by the late Bob Luman.