Long Lidless Poems
Long Lidless Poems. Below are the most popular long Lidless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lidless poems by poem length and keyword.
HAIL THE KING OF NAPOLI (1)
The Chronicles of the old king, Diego.
An epitaph of his statue reads: "When I go,
I go away from you then this badge
loses honour and beats dead with no urge"
Like a slackened drum that fades afar5.
I call out for you against my jutted star
And shout into the wind ridges like I'm barking,
Calling out for a successor regardless of skin,
Man mountain like Osimhen who's very keen,
African-breed & blooded but the spirit of Maradona.¹°
He's not one to score PKs doing a rabona.
This club waited for him who would hold the sway
Then the masked mafia mustered his way
From Lagos Nigeria to French club Lille Metropolis,
shatterin' Weah's goal record like voices in the Holies,¹5
Surmounted surgery & the pain of facial disfigure,
returned from the sidelines with a happy demeanour,
and became the face of Napoli, a phenomenon.
Rose from a whole season among giants & gladiators,
but endure weights of expectations among spectators.²°
The city's folklore is rewritten in the stars.
This masked man, you won't smite his armour
while scoring goals, giving assists and more.
V.O 9 evinces predatory under the floodlights thrill
and sees blood in goal when'ver it's time for the kill.²5
Heaven gave us this day but Osimhen delivers it
And set the Diego Armando Maradona stadium alight,
denotating a blinding brand of lightning!
All like a day's job from he whose pace is frightening.
Naples, this city of thy worship, jumps in hysteria,³°
Set ever free! Free from the drought of Serie A.
Joy engulfs the air, devouring the hearts of men,
which pantest for lost glory returned by Osimhen,
Naked, beneath the lidless eye of the heavens!
Naples, Elysian City of Ocean Blue & Ravens,³5
calm enchantest amid mutinous air & sea!
Parade the heroes from Campania to the Tyrrhenian Sea!
Oh! What a Metropolis of ruined Paradise.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes
Copyright ©? May 2023.
Alligators break the dark circular water,
later, a guy with a big belly and low belt
will grandstand while throwing half-frozen
chickens at them.
This early I’m still surfacing,
last night my legs got jailed
behind lidless dreams; the back of my neck
tingles now, as old sweat refries itself.
I’m waiting for the ‘man’.
A breeze combs damp hair
while I make-out with a Michelob
inside a soda bottle.
He’ll show-up in sockless Crocs,
baggies bulging
from the pockets of
his camouflage shorts.
I and Frick and Frack over there
fake an interest in the egrets
as the morning sun flickers through
snowy spread out, translucent wings.
The ankle-deep mist rises
revealing clearly
that we are simply here
as another form of park life,
waiting to be fed
one more far-out evening.
The Age of Man
We carried on
The age of man
Till moon of tin bore
An electric sun
And all machines
Shone bright and clean
Keeping silent
But wanting more
Till the purpose mind
Did loose its time
In idle waves lament
Through prostitution of evolutions
A self induced torrent
Took his mind till eyes fell blind
Unraveled the very core
To spit it bright into the night
Every secret that endured
Till all the stars fell off in drought
Withered at the root
Every galaxy was brought to knee
By the embassy we took
And God came down
To spy our crown
In towers that we command
As every tree
Laid low to be
A place that we should stand
While all the earth
Gave up its worth
Mountains fell to sand
But those machines
All we could see
God left us standing there
So gathering the ways
Of all his days
His books and all his score
Scattered it high into the sky
Into the cloud he stored
Every thought
That effort bought
By page, pen and grave
And set to fire
By all his ire
Knowledge eons gave
While dirt of earth gave up its worth
Lay idle, a broken land
Gave lifeless life unto the night
And Metal, a full command
Till from the hearth soulless marched
The field of Mars and woe
To stand in line as engines grind
In that womb steel did grow
From something other
Than a loving mother
A milk of gasoline
In burning oil and writhing toil
A demon she did wean
So the thought machine
Did kiss our dream
As man must lay to rest
But that unblinking eye
Our thoughts did spy
And developed its own interests
And not one of we
Did need to be
Said that steel abhorrent pet
And once the master, fell fast, then faster
Until not one of we were left
An an age for I
The lidless eye
Not troubled by truth or dare
Stays unseen
By human being
And continues its lifeless stair
Till rain came down from man made cloud
In that fog the Godless kept
All the ways until that day
And away it all was swept
The sky is the color of a bruised machine,
A heavy, lidless eye of ashen stone.
It has been forty years since hills were green,
Or since the rain washed the graphite soot alone.
We live in the ribs of cities, hollowed out,
Sifting the silt for a shimmer of glass or tin,
In a world that forgot what a seed was all about,
Where the earth is a drum, stretched tight and thin.
I climbed the ridge where the concrete spine
Of the old interstate snaps and meets the sky.
I was looking for copper, or a rusted sign,
Anything the scavengers had passed by.
But there, in a crack where the asphalt bled,
In a pocket of dirt that the wind had missed,
A defiance of color, a startling red,
A throat of velvet that the sun had kissed.
I fell to my knees, and the world went still—
The groan of the turbines, the whistle of thirst—
Everything vanished from the brow of the hill,
Except for this miracle, blessed and cursed.
It was a small thing, no larger than a coin,
With a stem like a needle, translucent and frail,
A splash of soft blood on a landscape of shale.
I reached out a finger, then pulled it back fast,
Terrified my shadow would wither the bloom.
How had it lingered? How was it the last?
A solitary candle in a planet-sized room.
Did it dream of the meadows? Of the heavy-set bees?
Or was it a stranger to the ghosts of the trees,
An isolated, beautiful, purposeless thing?
I looked to the horizon
Can I allay man's acceptance
of poverty which was not a dire circumstance before?
On those past days of summer the stale from bread crumbs fell
onto the lidless eyes of each child, woman on the street while my hands stretched out in full vanity ...
my very core frustrated, angry as I
walked without faith;
this self- imposed conceit ruling my thoughts as I served the community for my own glory.
And though I wished for more nights abundant that will quench their souls,
I slaved, part of my time dedicated to teach them how to make a living--
but can I wish for the morning sun to come and glow behind the ridges of a slum village wrecked by knives of hunger?
'Empathy denied by pride! '
How could I befriend genuine charity
when my self- centered heart
hungered for personal gain, the applause
of greatness screaming from tin cans and rice bowls of unpriveleged families?
How full of myself was I,
anticipating honors for service rendered,
an accompaniment to my thirsty pride...
and like so, reaping poor men's
adulation, I became more empty,
more devoid of inner peace...
Into deep mournings, prayers sought me:
Who is poorer of spirit-- the giver or the taker?
I pause now...another tomorrow begins,
baptism of epiphany flames the belly.
Another day arrives, my hope and transformation refreshed.
Deep breathing walkers
stretch across the blue grass of early day.
The park is a Florida basin under river roots.
A native cracker jammed down in a no-name Ford
listens to a country station that’s mega-nasal,
tin-star shaped and boozy.
Alligators break the dark circular water,
try again to feed on egrets,
as usual the birds are too strong to be plucked.
Later on, a guy with a big belly and low belt
will grandstand for the daily on-lookers
while throwing chickens at them.
This early I am just down in the mouth,
still surfacing.
Restless night and my legs got jailed
by lidless dreams. Now the back of my neck
tingles as old sweat refries itself.
I’m here taking the soft wet breeze
making out with a cold one inside a soda bottle
waiting for the man
who will show-up like a pond swimmer,
weed clinging to his billowing tactical shorts.
Only I and Frick and Frack over there
supposedly walking and talking
see that the park is all too clear-cut
and faking it.
When the ankle-deep mist rises,
it will be certain that we are waiting for some,
and another much cooler tomorrow.
Luminescence in pond
reflecting couple in love
romancing in moonlight
exhilarated by mist
from chocolate fragrant
berlandiera daisies
caressing hearts.
Moon winks
walking away vagrant
cradling sun to sleep
in vain
its lidless fiery eye
radiating heat and light
to rotating earth
nearing its light
to plug into
its energy
to feed life
then move
from its embrace
to cool down.
In beauty and silence
the sun
nourishes without
being nourished
self sufficient
like dare I say God
growing life in beauty
of serenity
interlacing elegance
of flowers and leaves
liquifying waters
of snowflakes and ice
splendor
of each season
returning
until eyelids close
to its light
and open to a Light
without night.
Look a new day has begun
sun rising from satiny
rose bed
sweeps with its rays
of white light
darkness out of the sky
awaking birds on wires
with songs and chatter
opening sleepy flowers
to bees and butterflies
sparkling water diamonds
to mist and vanish
like soul immortal
returning in cycle.
First Place Winner- Brian Strand-All Yours-6/1/21
The Age of Man
We carried on
The age of man
Till moon of tin bore
An electric sun
And all machines
Shone bright and clean
Keeping silent
But wanting more
Till the purpose mind
Did loose its time
In idle waves lament
Through prostitution of evolution
A self induced torrent
Took his mind till eyes fell blind
Unraveled the very core
To spit it bright into the night
Every secret that endured
Till all the stars fell off in drought
Withered at the root
Every galaxy was brought to knee
By the embassy we took
And God came down
To spy our crown
In towers that we command
As every tree
Laid low to be
A place that we should stand
While all the earth
Gave up its worth
Mountains fell to sand
But those machines
All we could see
God left us standing there
So gathering the ways
Of all his days
His books and all his score
Scattered it high into the sky
Into the cloud he stored
Every thought
That effort bought
By page, pen and grave
And set to fire
By all his ire
Knowledge eons gave
While dirt of earth gave up its worth
Lay idle, a broken land
Gave lifeless life unto the night
And Metal, a full command
Till from the hearth soulless marched
The field of Mars and woe
To stand in line as engines grind
In that womb steel did grow
From something other
Than a loving mother
A milk of gasoline
In burning oil and writhing toil
A demon she did wean
So the thought machine
Did kiss our dream
As man must lay to rest
But that unblinking eye
Our thoughts did spy
And developed its own interests
And not one of we
Did need to be
Said that steel abhorrent pet
And once the master, fell fast, then faster
Until not one of we were left
An an age for I
The lidless eye
Not troubled by truth or dare
Stays unseen
By human being
And continues its lifeless stair
And rain came down from man made cloud
In that fog the Godless kept
All the ways until that day
And away it all was swept