Long Mariana Poems

Long Mariana Poems. Below are the most popular long Mariana by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mariana poems by poem length and keyword.


I Hate Robocalls

I turn off damn ringer,
nonetheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls

digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape

gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into

outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
oh... , yes even after life,

while weightlessly 
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...

yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal

spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author

instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly, 
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly

vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)

sundering coalescence 
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,

thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams.

Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living persons
purely coincidental!


Theotokos: The City Beneath the Sea

At 10,911 meters beneath the Pacific veil,
where no submarine dares dream,
I descended into the throat of Earth—
into the trench men call Mariana,
but spirits call Theotokos.

There, the water was not water—
it was glass that hummed.
The ocean floor rose like a palace,
built of crystal bones and music stones—
a cathedral of sound and secrets.

They called it the House of Fire Music.

Inside, stood the immortalized—
Beyoncé, her aura a flicker of gold.
Jay-Z, carved from thunder and code.
Janet Jackson, wrapped in the rhythm of moons.
Dolly Parton, humming in divine frequencies.
Elvis shimmered at the corner, whispering hymns
of forgotten chords.

And then, the Beings arrived—
not gods, not angels—
but the composers behind the composers.
They stood clad in scarlet and amethyst,
eyes like suns behind veils of silk.

“We are the architects of your sound,” they said.
“Every chart hit, every sold-out stage,
begins not in your world, but here.”

A ritual began.
Each musician was summoned
to offer a letter of the alphabet.
Beyoncé stepped forward. Her voice—clear, defiant:
“I give you the letter S.”

The beings replied:
“Then we give you Single Ladies.
Take it. Sing it. The world will move.”
And so it was.

Kanye West knelt, offering P.
They gave him Power.
Lady Gaga whispered B,
and was handed Born This Way.
Freddie Mercury had once been here—
and took Bohemian Rhapsody
from their marble hands.

No song is random.
No beat is blind.
Everything—
from release dates to Grammy speeches—
is scripted by ancient rhythm codes
within the citadel of Theotokos.

They are taught the law of vibration,
the diet of frequency:
“No meat that bleeds.
No sex before sound.
No fame without silence.”
Their lives are not theirs.
Their voices are borrowed.

This world we know—
the charts, the scandals, the glam—
is just a shadow on the surface.
The music industry?
A temple built on crystal lies.

And when I rose back to the surface,
gasping, reborn—
I heard the radio play a new track,
and I knew—

It came from beneath.

Battle Axe and Her Republican Trumpeting Waze - Part 2

No sooner than we set foot within said domicile
attestation to so called gentleman’s’ agreement with guile
initially infrequently, but incessantly as time elapsed Isle 
never forget (nor will spouse forgive) with rancor and rile 
ceaselessly besieging, bruiting bare-knuckle skirmishes 
for us to remove ourselves and personal belonging with vile
lent vitriolic wrath from the day we decamped 
within hoity -toity Mainline – 
our matted unwelcome would endure for quite a white. 
*          I          *          S          *          I         *          N          *          G                  
With hindsight and accumulative less cloudy fifty shades of gray, 
an irrevocable clear er voyance viz summoning forth would lay
an irreconcilable rift (rivaling the Mariana), and constant nay 
saying presaged an emotional price to pay 
whereat we deterred sale of vintage crystal balls – our stay
purported prevented sale of precious heirlooms – oye vay
in tandem to estate sale divvied up, cuz we whar in the way.
*          I          *          S          *          I         *          N          *          G                  
Analogous to Little Red Riding Hood, we could not see 
blitzkrieg, cannonading, incessant strafe carpet bombing re:
bloody onslaught from the generation of elder vipers que
endured feeling trapped by memorabilia meant nothing to me
*          I          *          S          *          I         *          N          *          G                  
Warfare found us hunkering down within said tract housing unit, 
a fusillade fired off re: porting volleys of character assassination 
bombarded this unfortunate civilian clearly implicated to whit
for being a non jewish schlemiel inducing endless economic         
denigrating calumniations – fulminating against this “twit”
we decried wicked, vicious, unwarranted abuse would not quit 
with no defense against slings and arrows, a plague round
of ceaseless, ferocious, and insidious pilloried that pit 
pendulous injustices for each of our **** (emphatic branding 
per diem me own scrawny gluteus maximus  to git 
the hell out – eventually hiring a lawyer with eviction edict!
Form:

Premium Member December the Twenty First

Now the last chime is past, this day, December the 21st is here
The world awaits the Mayan predictions, now we fear their seers

How many are waiting around like rabbits caught in the lights
Fearing to move from where they are, to disappear from sight

What's in your last thoughts before you are taken out
Mocking this day of reckoning, now you challenge it's doubt
 
They say your life flashes before you the moment before you die
To the wall you look forever, your family photo's, now come the cries
 
Your favourite song you hear today you will never hear again
Whilst one drifts into no where's abyss, listening will be in vain
 
Recalling past moments, past memories, now distant to us all
As we dared to ignore their calendar, humanity is now in fall

Me, well I just stare out the window, to await this marvel of time
Never fearing what's about to happen, maybe we've undermined

Hours of this day now pass, the media in ignorant dismiss
Ridiculing the seers of the Mayan, assuming the worlds still in bliss

As I turn to view the screen, footage from the Shuttle is shown
The Mariana Trench has risen, massive displacement of water shown

Waves of gigantic proportions are rising to thousands of feet
To many shores the Shuttle will capture, so many countries it will greet

The movement of her plates, are rupturing along their paths
Volcanoes in Indonesia are spewing out mountains of ash

The lowlands like Bangladesh are imploding onto chasms so deep
Borders that we knew existed are now in cataclysmic sweep

The height of Everest is falling, as K2 crashes to the ground
Deafening is her voice, as her catastrophe's in plenty abound

All aboard the Shuttle, on this 21st of December day
Witness the Mayan seers, whilst we scoffed, their words did say






http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-20.php
Form: Couplet

Blue Movie

"Blue Movie"



Electroflushed
True Blue 
shines neon 
his gospel brow 
indigo guilt crushed
into the perilous
fathoms of her 
deep Ocean 
The Challenger Deep
depth charged
exploring 
the beauty of 
her black habit
plunging forbidden
lace marks 
a penance veil
kissed hard, 
unrepentant
rippling ponds are
mirrors open 
through soft masks 
defiant hidden graces 
rope strung
heaven bound 
deep in the dial up
velvet gloved fingers
trace the boundaries
of lips plush pink 
sweet opalescent 
silky smooth and 
milky inside a 
conch shell
and violet rhythm 
ripples across the 
satin shadows 
whispered across skin
where the burn melts ice
snapshot sighs smile
and go to lost territories
lips ripe and salty wet
persimmon pursed
tipping pearls 
in the shiny pink velvet
knees grazed
in the genuflect 
fevers contagious
exploring her book
kept shelved and 
shut tight 
treasures to be found
Mariana

(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)




"Grazes' / Sneaker Pimps, Bloodsport
https://youtu.be/SO_PYTFgHIg









....hmm, I guess I'm Hellbound.






1. Challenger Deep
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Challenger_Deep


2. Mariana Trench
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mariana_Trench






LYRICS/ "Grazes", Sneaker Pimps
https://genius.com/Sneaker-pimps-grazes-lyrics


Deep Peep Rhyme Time

Guessing I’m just another white rapper?
This isn’t just another pale mouth flapper. 
The rhymes are cleaner than Lysol Purrell. 
Sharing hidden stories usually a hard sell. 

Dripping with substance and soaking wet. 
Assume I’m a nobody since we never met. 
Hitting it as deep as the Mariana Trench. 
Not fanboying the pros from the bench. 

So I’ll rap on topics others won’t touch. 
Building an archive showing out much. 
Crafting lines for various organizations. 
By getting a taste of their inspirations. 

For companies competing on Wall Street.
And groups helping people mentally beat. 
Not selling out and dressing like a poser.
If tasked with flow to script I’m a closer. 

Writing hot flows not bringing the dough. 
But educating to get people in the know. 
Saving lives and making people care. 
Shedding light so they become aware. 

But rap isn’t to bragging about the writer. 
It’s to show passion being a cause fighter. 
So if you’re burnt out hearing shallow fluff. 
Read my lines for the real insightful stuff.
© Adam Segal  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

On Love

Upon lovers
it dawned
that Love
turns on
everything
and it comes
in all forms
fit for
everyone
there is not
“just one”
but rather
many
for in the land
of Love is Plenty
and simply put
it’s fit
quite right

“one love”
was written
and many
were smitten
with a light
but then….

a misquote happened
in the land of "right"
that long ago
gave lovers fright
as the love of One

almost
vanished from sight

seas became dim
a sun became shame
the land fell back
to a hollow form
where flowers dried
and worries loomed
all because Lovers
missed
what’s understood

so then It came
to try again
bringing forth
a second hand
reaching deep
to understand
what
“just happened”
so long ago
because just what
had frightened
what Creation
was about
“so below”

in a garden
there was lay
lying
only one row…

“come find me”
it would one day call
and “I’ll find you”
was the final haul
“so now they’ve come
to see us all…”

.
.
.
came
ala
amor
anteros
and eros
benten with brigit
and demeter
as heros
cupid with flora
and hathor
with hora
isis in juno as
ken and kupalo
lada in lempo
as mariana
kissed ken
and oh… breathe…

oba knew

opps gave osirus
smiles too
for quite a while
as the Lovers grew
a list not many
if the any know

wuzzle was got
and a plot was not
to be a report
of ‘no show’

rather instead
Creations ink bled
with names
in a delightful glow
an endless thread
from a timeless bed
where Love IS talkin’
to be the cause
because IT’S
the One
without a clause.
“Santa”

~I’m not done with you ;)
every.one.Loves.
It’s true. 

I give thanks
for the fuzzy snuggles
from them too.

.
.
.
inspiration is this list of love gods
http://wuzzle.org/cave/lovegods.html
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

No Matter Papa Repents

No Matter Papa Repents...

Every blasted acrimonious misdeed
aye indelibly perpetrated
affecting ye and the Punim for life
hounds me doggone soul night and day
venomous wrath torments, strangles, racks...
every bone in mine entire body

suicidal ideations haunt every
waking and sleeping hour,
perhaps previous attempts to communicate,
(albeit poetically - for no rhyme nor reason)
fell short, asper yours truly
to claim accountability, culpability, responsibility...

unwittingly subjecting thee, a prized progeny
with legacy, where
diabolical, emotional, psychological... trauma
compromised your care free growing up years
namely while residing at 1148 Greentree Lane
exacerbated by mine self absorption

countless hours misspent
whiling away precious time
mesmerized more so
with computer technology,
versus prioritizing fleeting moments
with "mother" and/or offspring

yes..he now pays heavy price
pursuing amorous liaisons
gallivanting, flirting, emailing...
impacting (obliviousness
pitifully lame retort unacceptable)
feigning much ado about nothing

snappishly barking anger
such vitriol (mine)
sabotaged once in
lifetime golden opportunity
to foster, kindle pinterest
with spouse and daughters

subsequently deepening rift
rivalling Mariana Trench
love's labour's lost forever
frittering away compounded
half heartedly seeking employment

even though - NO LIE
inexplicable debilitating anxiety
buzzfeeding panic attacks
plaguing my psyche
since...birth, incapacitating
maximizing potential abilities

playing havoc pledging troth
with counterpart exhibiting
mental health challenges
unfairly begetting deux darling lasses
thee bearing brunt of pennilessness,
at aforementioned residence

unlivable, horribly untidy,
toxic with mold, cluttered...
such offal sight, sounds of screaming,
(when Shana nonverbal), stench...
now suffer (PLEASE BELIEVE)

suicidal ideation plagues my conscience
pointed objects quite inviting
remembrance of things past,
a worse fate than death!
PLEASE FORGIVE DADA...?

Premium Member Incandescence

Through mirror’s bilge, Mariana on deck -
Wick’d queen, licks lips, with a delicious scheme.
In mock ascent, ego gives cheek a peck.
Suddenly daughter’s reflection - a gleam,
As snow forms queen’s exhale into a scream,
Her rubious threads covered in bright light, 
Mariana’s hair in cascading flight.
Furious dark red strands taint apple’s flesh.
Fruit’s innocent beauty beckons a fright.
Hoary-shapeshifter tempts Eve - step-hate fresh.

8/15/2020
Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 21 - Dizain
Chosen Title: Incandescence
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Dizain in 10 syllable lines
ababbccdcd
Checked by howmanysyllables.com
Form: Dizain

I Hate Robocalls

I hate robocalls!

I turn off damn ringer,
nonetheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls

digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape

gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into

outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
oh... , yes even after life,

while weightlessly 
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...

yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal

spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author

instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly, 
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly

vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)

sundering coalescence 
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,

thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams.

Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living persons
purely coincidental!

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