Long Lettering Poems
Long Lettering Poems. Below are the most popular long Lettering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lettering poems by poem length and keyword.
After Apple Picking one late fall day
as the gold sun hung low neath autumn's sky,
I took a turn, became ‘The Runaway’
onto The Road Not Taken, there nearby.
Lined thick with Birches planted on a knoll
along with Maples dressed in red-gold glows,
I now was drawn to take A Late Walk stroll-
bask in the luxury of nature’s shows.
Reminded to Choose Something Like a Star,
I made a wish as I went on my way.
As Venus blinked her answer from afar,
I turned to leave since Nothing Gold Can Stay.
February 4, 2017
~4th Place~
Premiere Contest: The Poet’s Pluck (poet of your choice)
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 02/22/2017
Rules: Choose five or more TITLES from a past historical
poet of your choice and use the TITLES to build your poem.
Show TITLEs in bold lettering.
Rules of a former contest:
Choose five or more TITLES from a past historical
poet of your choice and use the TITLES to build
your poem. Show TITLEs in bold lettering.
Poet Chosen: Robert Frost
I felt strange staring at this family cemetery
was I supposed to be here?
I tried to call my sister back, but she is eight.
She was skipping and singing.
What do you think? She asked, proudly.
We had gone further than ever before.
I was not sure we were still on grandpa’s farm.
“Come see!” she insisted.
It was an old headstone
The lettering was almost washed away by time
I could barely see the year,
I gasped when I saw the name
This had been the name of my invisible friend.
She had played with me for years
before my mother told me she was make-believe
Now I knew that she was not.
I stared at the faded lettering
Was she an ancestor? Who would know?
I heard her voice whisper in my ear.
“It has been a long time!”
I ran screaming from the place
THE FLYING NUN
Disposed to high speed,
the rushing air through her covering —
to the police, known as “The Flying Nun”
My great, great Aunt was a lot of fun.
First saw me, as I stood tall as her knee.
Years passed, sped by at long last —
a station wagon, loaded up with Mother Superior
and her companion, and all manner of things —
beautiful dolls, coasters, toaster cover and nicknacks.
I grew tall as a weed, scattered dandelion seeds.
Took three with me to visit my charitable Aunt.
The convent nuns treated the kids to ice cream,
flying as we were leaving, a couple giddy penguins
gave gobs of candy to my kids, and huge pencils
with red lettering “I Love Philadelphia”
By airmail, letters would flutter to me back home,
with loving bookmarks, and inspirational verse,
always asking for more stamps,
so the mail could lift off and land.
My dear Aunt became a nun at fourteen,
once said, if it hadn’t been for the convent,
she’d have been a movie star.
She took up the habit
as expected, by her family core.
A while passed,
missed —
Dear One — Rest In Peace!
2/4/2018
*Passed away several years ago.
From within the perspex booth, he flirtily inquired
if my day so far had been fulfilling
Duty of filling two reusable bags with thirty items
Didn't stop my silly line from spilling
"Certainly, yes - it's fulfilling me now"
His stare seemed unphased by my lame admission
Scanned groceries somewhere invisible
Face much closer than distance restrictions allow
French throat honey diverted from usual
Behind glasses, bulged eyes listening
Attempt at saving my remark from ruin, I extended
Adept words of general philosophy
on work life balance, my hope his shift soon ended
Frenchy said, "So soon I'm finishing"
Paid, sashayed away, loaded my car
Out of hours nerd backlit by afternoon's fading filter
Sauntered, long limbs fish fine flowed
to his boxy hatchback, began to fold himself into her
Glimsed me, his drive to leave slowed
Look longer than checkout intended
Don't play movies, - be the movie! I frantically chant
My devious quickly runs reels of torrid takes
Grinning, " Thought you'd be put off by my little rant"
Croissant crumbs flew frenzied as he makes
Front seat space clean to enable our chat
Knocked my head on circular pink hand grip swung
His French consoling rubbed clumsily
upon my hair, explained rubber grip used by his Mum
Tried to tuck it away, cute care fumbling
My impatient imagination carried us far
Decal sticker on window, white lettering ' Luck Left'
I inquire puzzled as to its meaning
"Today Luck came," he says, " It's going to be perfect"
Honestly, hormones by then teeming
Carpark departed in five seconds flat
(smutty Sundee)
23rd August 2020
I have words I did not speak
For they serve to make me weak
Yet I see them lettering for me
Spelling a dream to never be
Have I yet what not?
What was sold were bought
Though nearer I move yet further I am
The distant time I came to befriend
Every foothold to see myself depart
Every light fading to be stepping into the dark
Yet a comfort I am to find
Some peace where the light fail to remind
Surrounding me, consuming my presence
Flattering to consider the world at absence
And they be who I’ll aspire
A lonesome self for loneliness to desire
Nonetheless, the more I dwell the more I’m afraid
I fear to have my eyes reawaken to what await
An impending doom perhaps... unavoidable
A countdown for death’s toll... applicable
Yet of humanity be my most feared
For they be ones as selfless as selfishly deared
As simple as a wish as a wish to be simple
Reality be the realm no longer I shall follow
Though they have words spelling for me
They do not letter out for my dreams to be
Captivated as I’m immersed
in your writing
Shocking my senses like it
were lightening
Spending hours reading is like
its a fairy book
your organizing of syllabus
is all that it took
Linguistic vocabulary dialect
phrasing style
Expressive uttered content
language while
your deliverance of wording
lettering is observed
Your narratives wittiness
in your work is reserved
Interpretive collection only
reflects in your ink
Far from conservative the
themes make me think
Weaving a powerful thread
through your lines
Impactful experience for
each reader by design
Artistically creative with
your energy and flow
Reading so realistic with a
faint dream like glow
In your simple structure you
open us up to much more
Awakening one’s emotions
from your honest candor
10/1/22
I want to say something about cursive writing (this might seem random).
I’ve seen articles saying that cursive writing is a “dead art,” that computers have destined it for oblivion and questioning whether cursive writing should be taught in schools now-a-days.
But if you plan to go to college - relearn it and practice it, because you’ll need it.
Random hot fact. The first time you have to handwrite a multiple-question essay test - where each answer requires five hundred to a thousand words (a written page) - handwriting, in block letters, is unsustainable.
Your hand will literally cramp up - dog, you’ll suffer, your essays will suffer and so will your grade.
Writing in cursive is faster than block lettering and with a little practice, it’s effortless.
My sister told me this once, and this morning, as I watched other students, one third of the way into our essay test, grimacing and flexing their aching hands - I just smiled to myself.
Yeah, you can thank me later.
Flamboyant swashes; flaming crimson,
could be my face, as the flyswatter-hand
could impress such lettering upon my cheek.
so I
severed the crescent-angel of my imagination,
dashed my dreamy cursive, expunged the end;
held my breath as I curtailed the honey-alphabet.
Nun in black,
giving me grief, exacting ruler teeth, measuring
the letter of the law; curtains to poetic strength.
Who was I to think
outside the parochial box. Couldn’t she,
who dangled rosary beads,
have at least
decisively
have added,
“My! My! Isn’t that pretty! You will make a great poet
one day, but today, dear one, you must play by the rules.”
Snap! Crack! My knuckles are raw.
They meet my mom’s gaze. We laugh.
In my time, the penguins
wouldn’t dare,
but dare
one did
to
bang the elementary school kid,
his head, against the classroom door
frame. famed…defamed…sorry for him.
He probably didn’t tell
his mom and dad.
We didn’t
back then.
This was only one educator…
the rest were fairly nice. Unfair
to dice my letter, mold it, conform it.
Perhaps that is why
I
interchange cursive and printing
as I take note
of the world at large
and
the small people that live on a ledge
eyeing letters and ledgers
with eagle-eyed veracity.
Verifiably insane,
the pinch
of my pen,
in the grip of Sister Pain-in-the-Neck.
Feverish,
with fanciful letters,
alpha-betcha-soup, heterodox-ical, complexities
with outlier formatting. I
will pull out from the alphabetical wolf pack,
hungry for a feast
of flippant snippets. Do my teachers
toss in their graves? I
think not. They just lie
in a box, just so.
A - After Thanksgiving, minds reset,
B - because about a month away,
C - Christmas will be our holiday.
D - Deliverance of peace it brings,
E - especially when we hold dear,
F - forever in our hearts so clear,
G - God's Son, our Savior was born.
H - Held in a manger filled with hay
I - inside a stable, mother near,
J - Jesus Christ was sent to us.
K - Kind shepherds came to find him there,
L - led by Star of Bethlehem, saw
M - Mary and Joseph with their child...
N - not just a babe, but Son of God.
O - On that blessed and holy night
P - people knew that Christ was born.
Q - Quietly from the clouds above
R - rows of angels appeared to them
S - singing glorious hymns of joy
T - to announce the Savior's birth.
U - Until now from long ago,
V - vigils are kept on Christmas Eve;
W - we gather, pray at Midnight Mass.
X - Xmas or Christmas, all the same;
Y - your "X" means "Chi" or Christ in Greek.
Z - Zealously, keep Christ in Christmas!
January 4, 2016
Contest: ''X'' Contest, New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
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It turns out, “Xmas” is not a non-religious version of “Christmas”. The “X” is actually indicating the Greek letter “Chi”, which is short for the Greek symbols meaning “Christ”. So “Xmas” and “Christmas” are equivalent in every way except their lettering. http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2011/12/the-x-in-xmas-doesnt-take-the-christ-out-of-christmas/
Cody was questioning the lettering on the doctor's plaque on the wall..
He asked me to write letters in cursive which I did ...
He said that the plaque's lettering was not anything like cursive..
Then he wrote in cursive "Once upon a time"
I wrote: "there was"
He wrote: "a Granny"
I wrote: "Who had a Chihuahua named Princess"
He wrote: " They were so alike that they both even had the same spoiled look on their face.."
I wrote: " Princess wanted a new coat and a new harness so we went to PetSense to shop..Princess wanted a rhinestone studded harness and a sequined coat..Of course, she got what she wanted its no joke"..Ha!!!Ha!!!Ha!!
Cody came away empty handed..Ha!!!
Just for fun...