Long Left out Poems
Long Left out Poems. Below are the most popular long Left out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Left out poems by poem length and keyword.
He whispered to her, "I love you so"
She smiled at him, "Yes, I know"
I call that some king size bull crap
Making him feel like such a sap
I saw her walk by the poorest of poor
With not a smile - like she was grandeur
Knowing this was just king size bull crap
I thought, for her, I'll set a booby trap
He gave her the world on a silver spoon
Nothing was forbidden – not even the moon
It was easy to see this was king size bull crap
For her, though, he was always such a good chap
I watched from afar as they gave her the world
Dancing and laughing, together they always twirled
When they were left out, it was king size bull crap
It seemed they’d been given a big, giant foolscap
Hearts afire, they bought the ticket to paradise
Never realizing they were too young for the price
It cost them their youth and it was king size bull crap
That gave them this painful and discouraging mishap
I overheard the joke they were playing
It was sad and wrong - I was praying
This was much worse than king size bull crap
This brought a darkness they would unwrap
Feelings poured from her silent lips
She was one who had been given scripts
By someone who fed her their king size bull crap
Making her feel less, like she deserved a handicap
I knew that I was wrong to do this thing
Listened to my heart and accepted his ring
Soon I knew I’d slipped into some king size bull crap
Everything started smelling like a stinking rattrap
There are highs and lows and many in between times
When we share our worries, our doubts and crimes
But when it comes down to it, king size bull crap
Is something we spend our time trying to zap!
King Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
December 20, 2021
God always wants us to be good
to be always truthful and happy
so He teaches us through Angels
not to do any sin and how we are
to live our life honestly
Shows the path of eternity
He is the absolute Father of all
all are His lovely children
So He takes care of us in this World
He also warns and asks us not to do any bad
but if something is done out of His rule
behind Him to make Him fool
nothing but a ignorance's tool
He sees everything with His Universal eyes
nothing can be left out of His sight
He is so dearest that no one can be
even when sinner prays Him with true heart
by pardoning makes him free
Ah summer when smiles nigh early on trees…
Take season's kick-start, Karan, smiling first,
Its bright yellow flowers when sway in breeze,
And seem to brag: O watch my blossoms burst.
Lest it be left out of this fragrant race,
Champa, well worth a wait, hastens to charm,
Mogras mesmerise with innocent face,
Birds with sweetest of songs begin to swarm.
Even Curry-patta, kitchen's green soul,
When blooms with tender leaves, shows shades of greens,
Gulmohors and Acacia, close cousins,
Borsalis, Bougainvillea are on roll.
Butterflies dance, and birds when sing aloud,
The Nature’s smile from subtle turns to loud.
II
Loud or subtle, both celebrate Nature,
One can imagine what may well happen:
The mood’s upbeat, life lifts its innate stature,
Lo, summer’s here to run full marathon.
Ceaseless, some stray squirrels scamper breathless,
Koels when coo behind fresh foliage,
Locked are the house lizards in long caress,
All life on earth has spiced up its image.
All clamour to be part of cheery scene,
Palm trees, sea breeze, salty air, sun-kissed hair,
In early summer O do take me there,
Let me like all play my own little bin.
When summer smiles early O do not wait,
Celebrate, ‘summer’s lease hath a short date’.
III
Yea, summer’s lease enjoys too short a date,
Seasons can’t just carry for long their hype,
So, fortune smiles when, keep an open gate,
O smile, for fruits come succulent and ripe.
Day’s bright, night shines with moonlit silver line,
Naught compares with summer night— all alone,
She seated with her love on sandy throne,
To enjoy till dawn under silver shine.
An early summer with blissful mild chill,
And a touch of late winter’s sweet embrace,
Sure, naught can beat early summer’s warm feel,
A stretch on green grass, gaze at stars’ true face.
And early summer’s not without its boons,
For, monsoon too sets soon in a few moons.
_____________________________________
Crown of sonnets |09.03.2020| summer, smile
The politicians danced around town telling all the people what they wanted to hear. Their promises came wrapped in the fine clothes of prosperity. Our town would ‘reap great rewards and absolutely no one would be left out’ they shouted. They filled the air with hopes and dreams. All the men heard the news at town hall meetings and gatherings at their watering holes. They carried it happily home to their wives. Those were happy days, anticipating all the good things to come. The politicians came and went…their promises came and went…but their prosperity never came at all.
I hear you talking
yet I am not listening
I’ve heard it before
"The Forest, The Lot and The Carpetbagger"
In the middle
of it all, in
The Forest,
I was asked
by a soothsayer
to choose
a number
1, 2 or 3.
I said
in all sincerity,
“that’s a bad number, 3.
someone always feels
left out discarded; now
if you get down to it,
about playing cards,
well 1,
is rather obscure,
concealed,
not easily expressed,
or understood,
no fun, just 1,
waiting for the deal
to be delivered,
to be done,
you could wait forever,
as just number 1, where's
the fun in the dance
as the unknown, unseen
stoic 1."
So I chose 2,
me and my shadow
2, I’d bring the
other with me
like a pair of
socks, well matched
walking off the page
walking off
win-win
with the shining
light, the payload,
the winnings,
the lot, at end of day
like a carpetbagger,
when fortune
tempts fate
walking its
very very fine line,
Risk asks for the payoff
and in exchange,
for trust and faith,
the long night
and dreary day
over all are saved;
opportunity knocks,
the door opens
it is now
unlocked,
I walk through,
poetically speaking,
I manifest the lot.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"An Event Destined to Happen in Your Lifetime"/White Feather Tarot
Has the church lied
Does evil always lurk by
Eventually will such scourge die?
It's all been confirmed by
The third eye
Still on Earth I
Learned why
It's worth a try
Predators always impacting the herd size
A turn of the tide
As birds fly
Above the surf line
Near a restaurant known for stir-fry
We can't reverse time
Flames burned high
No longer cursed by
A disturbed mind
The other 2 portions truth or mystery, now you've heard right
Difficult to say if such a cycle works fine
You'll get nowhere if you're in the same place since last week
Playing with fire, it's dangerous like a gas leak
Does no good to put it all in the back seat
Crumbs and scraps left out that rats eat
Can't solve it all with a fact sheet
Life is one thing you can't cheat
The void black and bleak
My dumbwaiter thoughts circle
beyond dumb tongue,
nummed by the enigma of autistic brilliance.
Now that I only see in infrared spectometry.
If I am eclipsed by the pre morrows dusk,
the impending vise, gripped in your sojourn.
What do I be, what is left of my journey done.
A flaccoid doll left out in your storm
in your subduing gauntlet thrown,
Queen of the Stormborn,
Rider of Dragons, come.
What then is the cast of shadows for,
the White Walkers of the North?
While you dance in my marrow
as unattainable scorn.
To have your cold-snap lull me to death
and jar me back to life.
A tempered oscillator of hapless bulwark,
a still-born of your broken water
left in the care of the Angels
and whisked to God's Holy Throne.
In my delusions of warped moonbeams projecting phantasms upon my minds fantastical means.
Who takes care in the packaging,
in the warning labels in the free falls
into livewire nets or none at all.
To be but a pilfered statue in Life's Adventure of you.
Where do damaged wings go for the impossible mend.
Where does the haughty breath go of endless debris blowing winds.
I am but screaming in digital,
the dark spectrum of light at rainbows end.
As summer days were waning, warm and long,
I made new friends (I thought, but I thought wrong).
We drank the nights away with bloodshot eyes
When we were friends in drunken paradise.
They let me in their circle for a while,
Then shut me out, as if part of their guile.
They were my friends, but by my thoughts deceived,
Strong friendship out of drunkenness I believed.
One day I realized we were never close,
But I’d imagined it in my repose;
So no sooner said hello than said goodbye,
That summer ended. South, the birds would fly.
Once in a while we talk, but I don’t share
As much as they, for they don’t really care.
They want an intermediary now?
It is not me, I was the friend left out.
The millstone ground more slowly ev’ry day
As soon all of your friends did fall away.
You never thought that it would come to this,
The rumor mill shut down for lack of grist.
Eventually, I found my friends anew,
Those I know aren’t faking it. But you
Have lost yours in the dark and snowy nights,
Wond’ring which of them turned out the lights.
For me, this ends that story. All is well.
For you? That’s not for me to say, so tell
The stories of the warm and lasting nights
(And maybe then you’ll turn on all the lights),
When we were friends, in drunken paradise.
Our dog named Scruffy likes to sleep by the fireplace,curled up in a ball.
He likes to cuddle in between us for attention, to be petted, and spoken to.
His favourite treat is Beggin' Strips". It's the only thing he will eat.
At bedtime Scruffy sleeps in the middle, so no one is left out,in our big bed.
In the morning he greets us with a bark and a tail wag.
He likes to play fetch every chance he gets and he is friendly with people
especially children.
As I stretch from a deep relaxing sleep I realized that it was all a dream.
Perhaps one day it will come true.
Yes I do have a dog named Scruffy, but he is only a stationary dog
He sits in my bedroom on the floor.
At times he feels real to me.
No we don't know when we will get a dog, but one day we will.
it will not be a "Scruffy".
Instead it will be a Border Terrier and that's alright with me!
SATURDAY OR NOT
Shadows on walls falling from the setting sun;
Leaving behind dreams, of which I was the star.
Who's going to finish this dream:
Who can complete this dream?
this dream that captured my soul,
when you left out I waited,
I waited .... but you never returned.
Who's going to continue to love me?
Who will tell them, those lies were untrue?
who will kiss me in the morning,
now that I Don't have you?
Shadows on walls talk to me,
when the sun is rising, whispering...
ever so gently that soon It will be all right.
I am exhausted from forced smiling.
I stand alone devoid of pain;
And pain would feel so right.
We never even had a chance,
to have a lover’s fight.
Your dream was never to be dreamt
again, that's the dream I am in.
Who will finish holding me;
Who will say goodnight.?
What happens to the love we shared
when love has been forgot...
one more day until Sunday,
"Saturday or not"!
The dream has ended abruptly:
The dramas now unfolding.
My Lovers gone...and only the
shadow knows the secrets he was holding.
I stand alone devoid of pain,
and pain would feel so right...
Seven days we were married
before they tore my love away.
The white dress on the back of the door.
Tomorrow, means nothing anymore.
Even though the next would have been Sunday,
I want no more tomorrows.
I don't even want today!
I only wanted finish dreams.
And to feed you from my loving pot:
To live our dreams, our lives, accordingly.
"Saturday or not"...!