Long Liter Poems
Long Liter Poems. Below are the most popular long Liter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Liter poems by poem length and keyword.
This 6 liter hard candy girl
tickles my eyes and curls my toes.
Makes me dance to music I can’t feel.
Sends me where I’ve never been before,
on a tour
of Big Time, Small Town, Milky Way Heaven,
wearing clumsy sneakers that reek of old cliches
and humming sad tunes from all my yesterdays.
Don’t sit and weight for your bowels to move
lost in the groove caused by your life’s last fall.
Get up and do it again.
Well, perhaps it’s different now, I can’t tell:
We’ve all been to Heaven of one kind or another.
We’ve all seen our own brand of Hell
and I can tell
that walking down the road together might be good.
I might understand you better,
might be understood.
But Gee,
what kind of picture does love really paint
with brushes of passion and canvas that aint
really flat.
Well, just put on your traveling hat
come along for the ride.
Cause Man
Cause Baby
Cause Geeesh
I ain’t got nuthin to hide.
Maybe you got your own kinda dreams to share
about some hunk of six digit brand of Macho Care.
Prize pupils starin’ back at you
with guns still smokin’
and pot shots making swiss cheese outa your ROMANCE.
Maybe you learned how to dance
the hard way
banana peels taped to the sides of your skates
and fish eyes staring out of
all of your restaurant plates.
And maybe your hair has lost its sheen
or lost you completely
and gone where its never been
without you.
Well what else is new?
We all gotta tune
of one kind or another
and we all learned to dance from
a sister or brother
and whether we walk with a bounce
or a cane
we all been caught sometime out in the rain
and it aint nuthin new
it’s only me.
and it’s only you.
I arrived early for the appointment I had made many months ago,
And began the interminable wait to consult with the medico!
When I checked in, it was already half-past noon.
Nursey said, "Take a seat and we'll be with you soon!"
The room was filled with people in every kind of condition!
I mused, "Lord, have mercy! Deliver me from this perdition!
While waiting I'll surely contract a dreadful disease, I fear
And be so much worse off than when I arrived in here!"
I thumbed through dog-eared magazines dating from 1953,
And stared with glazed eyes at unctuous soap operas on TV.
Swallowed stale coffee by the liter from a Styrofoam cup,
Waiting impatiently for my name to be called up!
I tried to snooze but that soon became a sad delusion,,
With bawling kids and inane babble - just too much confusion!
The little old lady next to me told of her every pain and ache,
As I lent a compassionate ear, striving to stay awake!
I was tempted to order a scrumptious Papa John's pizza pie,
Since my stomach was growling and supper time was drawing nigh!
At last Hildebrun, the nurse, in all her puffery before me did loom,
And finally ushered me into the harried doctor's examining room!
Robert L. Hinshaw CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Everyone he had loved or loved him was now long gone.
From New York City and down to the south of Rome;
From Eastern Europe to Alaska in the city of Nome;
For most of his life, from pillow to post, he had roamed.
He 'd lived in many places and spaces few had ever known.
For long he wandered near and far, forgetting his real home.
Perhaps he was looking for love to free him from being alone.
With different colored socks and two right shoes;
With a purple right glove to break all the rules;
With tattoo on his forehead and a ring-pierced nose;
With never a fail, he had flowers, and his favorite was rose.
With one left gold ear ring, and one right silver ear ring;
With knee-out pants and torn shirt, he took the mic to sing'.
With a red backward cap, turned inside out, and a red eye-patch to match,
he pulled out a cigarette for a few puffs, but could not find a liter or a match.
The crowd was aghast that one like him was able to get past the door man.
He wasted no time trying to explain, realizing they would never understand.
They looked down on him, hoping he wasn't a criminal, threatening danger.
He was tired, broke, hungry, homeless, and just a drifting harmless stranger.
They looked him over from head to toe, evaluating weight, height, and size.
Although he was not, they never considered he might be an angel in disguise.
He said, "I am a poor old stranger from Kobacah, and my name is Sitruc.
Very hastily, a he-man security guy took the mic and handled him rough.
As he was being kicked out, he told them that they just missed a great show,
and that he was sorry that they had to settle for a local guy named Joe.
As he gathered himself and reset his rose, Sitruc took one last look.
He then found a bench and took more notes for his first book.
As I awaked from my dream about a vagabond,
I felt as if I had run a marathon.
082121PSCtest, Vagabond Dreams, Craig Cornish
The howling of the lone gray wolf
His fingerprint sound waves
Reaches out to his alpha female
And to enemies like staves
His hunt unfruitful this night
No ungulates found alive
Few scavenged tidbit pieces
Barely enough to survive
His alpha mate heavy with pups
tucked into the warm den
Hunger gnawed away at her, weak~
dreams of a fat tough hen
Maybe fate would befriend her mate
At least a deer he'll kill
And bring home a lean hind quarter
An empty stomach fill
Sixty days or so the liter carried
Must be many large pups
Maybe four or even seven
Seven pups a deluxe
They'll be delivered just in time
For the deer, elk and moose
To give birth to their fawns~ easy prey
Food source hidden in the spruce
Hunger will recede through the summer
They'll be plenty of game
Maybe at least one pup will survive
To the future lay claim
Contest: Canis Lupus The Wolf
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Written: April 06, 2015
around were they planned to build a new city they
designed a perfect place to fool novice people and to
enlighten the brokenhearted. One designer said when
people look to man to create he should speak of inspiring
people to believe in the trueness' of resolve. they wished
to build a hollow mountain that inside woul house industry
and people. The mountains surface would have holes
to catch water and store it and filter and recycle it and send
it to underground pipes(aquifers) and manmade welling systems.
before the first homes are built we want to create this mountain.
Steam engines inside will vent into a sub area and the steam will
be condensated and the water gathered. water storage. 57,000
units will liter the areas around the mountain a train will
travel in a circle with stos in four stations. A beautiful place to
be and visit. Smaller hill like structures will be inplace to be
housing for livestock. the vents will catch the odors
and store them as fuel. a system will be designed so that
cleaning the area will be only an assignment instead of a task.
artifcal trees will be used to create electricity. Trees which barks
and limbs which will be solar mirrors and pours that are equipped
with filters to catch water from rains and snows. Water that are sent
to underground storage tanks.
Space Rock Climber was born to the void
On an asteroid named for its ores and metals
Orbiting the sun one year after another
Morning never comes
Day never breaks
Silence goes on forever dead
A 10 year old son abandoned by parents
Who moved back to their home planet, Earth
The boy climbs rocks for a living on a rock
Food ran out two years ago
The climber turned to stones and minerals
Surviving on dirt sustenance alone
Rocks stay in place forever with their flavor
Easy to hunt down in craters
Black skies scream at the stars
Lack of atmosphere, depleted air
Low oxygen, no spare tanks, parental lies
Laid out on the platform of dark horizons
No one lives for long in outer space
Parents should not leave their children all alone
Like so much liter waste and weightlessness
He forgot their names
Embraced the great beyond as his domain
They had no room on board the ship they said
If only he were a little lighter
Perhaps he would fit between the gold and silver
Shipments of such commodities are revered
Rock climber has no name
It is not needed in this environment
Temperatures run from the sun
From hot to cold as is expected
Climate fluctuates that way in space
The young man stays the same
Stands on solid ground
Time sets no limits on the day
As the asteroid tumbles on
No doubt it has directions figured out
A barren rock is not a proper home
If he could remember, he would forget
It's for the best
Abandonment is not healthy for the mind
Mom and dad left him minors tools
Smiled and gave advice
They told him to climb high ridges
And wave good-bye
It is a trial out in space
Cry’s go unheard and serve no purpose
The vacuum of the void defines survival
This is the only world he knows
Rock Climber goes up the granite inclines
To find minerals for his soul
He grows too old to work
Then something happened
As luck would have it a collision just occurred
An asteroid hit his little world
Hurled him and his rock back home
Finally he would see the Earth
Enter the atmosphere in a hurry
Just in time to tell his mom and dad
Don't worry! Don't burn alone!
I'm here so we can have a blast together
I'm Selling the Cherry Orchard and the Sky by the Bucket
I'm selling the cherry orchard and all the green fireflies playing hidden in flowers,
The deposits of longing I cannot sell easily—because they have an owner in my chest,
But the frozen sky and all the smoke from the village I'm selling by the heavy bucket,
I give clouds by the kilogram, wind only ad-literam, I'm selling rain by the piece.
I'm selling comets by the glass, the Perseids by the cart and the entire cosmic horoscope,
The moon—the unseen part that hasn't been sold yet—I'm giving it away completely,
Shadows only by the sack after I undress them from silent hidden wounds,
And I'm selling from the galaxy the heavy dandelion fluff and light in clay cups.
From the prayer book I sell psalms with cipher and words by the liter only for ascetics,
I'm selling ink on a quill, the green from my eyes only for silent poets,
I sell both grapes and wine only by the full glass, good for holy litanies,
And I'm selling the flight of cranes and liquors of love for the living communicants.
From angels I sell what I can, from demons all of hell, I trade heaven for raw apples,
Winter I sell only by snowflakes, summer by long legs, the rest for false chimeras,
I give lies for sweet words and soap from bubbles for dead mockeries,
And then from what remains I'm selling love for you on a handful of stars.
Everything I have in this magic universe I'm selling you for nothing—for your breath,
Green fireflies dance through my cherry orchard that's no longer mine at all,
Only your love remains—the single thing that cannot be sold at auction,
On a handful of stars I give it to you—to hold in your palms like a living prayer.
exposed to danger
All we only asking
is care about us
don't liter us to nothing
we voted for your best
not your evil side
so why do we have to bleed?
so why do we have to suffer ?
we are not invisible
our quest is obvious
as now we cry
if you still can feel
all we are asking is
just try see us
care for us
exposed to danger
All we only ask for is
treat us right
don't let us to wonder
in pains and agony
is too bad if you so
soon forget that
you are part of us
we are your people
we are your blood
our country should
have been our best home
we are fed up of
illegal migration
if only you care
exposed to danger
hunger starvation
brutality intimidation
abuse frustration
corruption poverty
on and on
exposes us to evil
when evil is among
the people
the land bleeds
hell on the life's
of it citizens
we need to live
we need life
we are tired to
be neglected
when the leaders
fails theirs
responsibilities
then the life of
his people is
exposed to danger
note
dedicated to all the leaders
of the third world's countries
Richard!
Cat Lady, going crazy,
yet not lazy, but too busy
in her garden, where blooms daisy
and her nineteen cats run and play.
When she wanders in near-by park,
in sunny morning or evening dark,
zealous dogs start to bark,
as battalion of cats walk in array.
Two cats stay in kitchen
with their lovely kittens.
In bedroom lie nine or ten.
At dining hall, rests take rest.
Brown, black, yellow, white,
pale, dull, glossy, bright,
fat, skinny, arrogant, polite,
each easily adjusts at best.
She buys daily ten liters of milk
She takes half liter, rest, the pets drink.
Cheerful cats lick and happily wink
to Lady: Proud owner of nineteen cats.
Liked and loved by neighbor,
owing to her pleasant behavior,
acting also as a great savior.
Locality has got free from rowdy rats.
My life is suddenly great
and I am magically happy.
I can run a mile,
lose my breathe
and still smile.
I realize suddenly
that no one is watching me
or I stopped caring
who might
have glanced my way
in passing.
Just as suddenly
I am "chasing cars"
slightly faster than me
to infinity.
I'm hopping over
the cracks
of a downhill sidewalk,
and occasional liter.
The birds are just singing
for me.
For a slant of time
there is meaning
and equality.
The sun is settling over
white-blossoming pear trees
this evening.
I just hope a spoonful
of hope sprinkles down from
heaven tonight.
Tomorrow might be better
than today.
Maybe, when least expected,
it will be even better everyday.
Title this poem: Hopping
the Cracks for the band
Snow Patrol,
or Hopping the Cracks
like I'm Five Again.