Long Media Poems

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


False Accusations, Part Ii

...His starting point, after much hustling,
was a diner at the edge of the town,
the man who had once built massive bridges
now spent his days at work frying hash browns.
Working for a pittance, day after day,
the only place that would dare give him pay.

About three months into doing such work,
just after the breakfast rush was complete,
he saw a woman enter the diner,
with two young boys, she looked about forty.
Time had done little to Alan’s ex-wife,
Whitney was a queen, hallowed in his sight.

He tried to hide, but Whitney caught a glimpse,
a flabbergasted look clear on her face,
but he made no move to go talk with her,
and she had two kids, could not leave her place.
His heart pounded until Whitney had left,
seeing her moved over felt much worse than death.

She had proclaimed that she would stand with him
when the accusations first had been made,
but the media had taken its toll,
he had watched her resolve drain, day by day,
until the day that the verdict had come,
when he’d been locked up, then it had been done.

She’d started divorce, he didn’t contest,
it was something he could not do to her,
she’d wanted children, normal existence,
all the things that a good woman deserved.
With him in prison, that would be denied,
so he’d signed the papers, and said goodbye.

It had been simple, before he’d been freed,
when he had not had a reason to hope,
now, seeing her, with some other man’s kids,
seemed beyond his ability to cope,
a wound that wouldn’t heal, slowly bleeding,
making him question the point of being.

But the next day, when his shift was over,
and he was walking slowly for the bus,
he saw a G-wagon, and his Whitney,
and his heart started racing then because
there were no kids there, no shield she could use,
confronting this was what he could not do.

But she came forwards, her face fresh with tears,
struggling hard to keep herself composed,
until she broke down, and embraced Alan,
saying, “I’m sorry…how-how could I know?
I’m not sure how to deal with this because
I don’t know why she would do this to us!

“Now I’m left looking at a man I love,
that I abandoned, I’m ashamed it’s true…
We were so happy, but now all I see
is all the things that I’ve taken from you.
The life you deserved, that I thought we’d build,
her lies and my weakness…it’s all been killed.”

CONTINUES IN PART III.
Form: Epic


Premium Member Month End Madness

Panting, running, paying, fuming,
Bumping, swearing, hurrying, driving,
All because today is the thirty first
Of the month, why are we all nigh to burst!
Got to buy groceries, go the butcher
The dry cleaners, the florist, the baker,
Did i turn on the slow cooker?
Have guests coming at 8.00p.m still
On the road, home in 15 minutes – phone Will,
Darling, Did you collect the birthday cake,
There is a big accident, traffic hectic won’t make
It to pick it up – Yes sweetheart I have
Drive carefully the roads are crazy,
Looks like a storm brewing, weather drizzly and hazy.
As I arrive in our driveway it pours with rain,
And I drop a packet, which had the red wine, I stain
My clothes and the car seat, go have your shower,
Hubby says, relax, everything is under control, 
Turned shower taps to their full strength and power
Exhausted, let the water run over my naked body
Till I feel refreshed, get dressed in my 
Sexy black number,
And come downstairs, hubby gives me a wolf whistle,
Just wait till the guests leave he says, look at him 
From under my lashes!
The aroma wafting from the stove is 
Provocatively divine!
And next to the sofa is a glass of room 
Temperature red wine.
Table is set, arrange flowers I brought in a vase,
Immediately, the bell goes ding dong, 
It’s Cherry and Tim,
She couldn’t wait to show me her engagement ring,
Hot on their heels are Susan and Barry,
He has just asked Susan to him marry,
And last of all my twin sister Rina, arrives she’s wise,
With her new boyfriend in tow she bellows, Hi guys!
Fun was had and wine was drunk 
Laughter abounded in the lounge and dining room,
We all forgot how tired we were and 
It was end of the month, and all the media forecasted,
Was doom and gloom!
It was my birthday, turning forty, no turning back now,
Don’t regret a day of my life, bless the day I took my vow,
Happy birthday dear Mary, happy Birthday to you,
I felt blest had my hubby and sister present and select 
Friends but few,
Mellow and happy and with certainly no one drunk,
Just four happy couples full of zest and funk!
Our guests began departing, in twos they left,
I slipped of my shoes and gave a big yawn,
Will picked me up, and must have undressed
Me – for all I remember is waking up to a peck
On my cheek,
And a scrumptious breakfast in bed,
I always knew I had picked the right guy to wed!
Form: Rhyme

Jealousy

“Jealousy”
Jimmy had odds to beat, one he was a black teen and the temptations of big city’s Streets. 
But a single black mother’s determination held his attention sternly,
So he had only Minimal interaction with streets.
He had rickets but Jimmy could catch any ball.
He ran with a gang that like to brawl,
Then he entered a Youth Center where a Mentor introduced him to football.
Pop Warner he’s leader of the team,
Onto High School Football team as runner for TD’s.
Scouts without doubts offered degrees.
Mother’s pleased when he goes to USC, to be toast of the university.
Jimmy rode football like a Hell’s Angel rides his hog.
He played halfback, fullback carrying the ball.
Top backers called, packs of women clawed,
Because for a rental car he ran through a mall.
Sydney was a naive Germany beauty queen, 
Blond haired eyes emerald green. 
Done nothing much since she jumped with the school cheer team.
But she had dreams, being famous on T.V., a celebrity.
But she’s stalled in the Pokipsy Mall,
Serving chili, hamburgers and hotdogs. 
When in comes Jimmy, walking tall, followed by his enthralled.
Each sees the other and head over heels each falls.
Their love, sweet, she felt entitled to be,
With the famous Jimmy.
After their affair they married, two heirs, beach house on Bundy Street,
Her face on T.V. with Jimmy, her dream is complete.
But Jimmy believes in slavery,
Believes possessions are bounty one forever keeps,
And Sydney is his property.
But black eye secrets don’t keep,
So she and her parents agree, divorce Jimmy immediately.
Jimmy falls, fell by divorce when the gavel falls.
But most of all,
He felt affronted by the German goofball in front of media tell-all, 
So he watches her like a hawk, to see with whom she walks.
She saw a new fella who won her heart and Sydney falls.
He wines and dines her many times and shows respect to all. 
So Jimmy waits, pissed off jealousy he has no date, until one night on her Ronald calls.
Greens seethe engulfs Jimmy from head to feet, it shuts off reasoning.
Disrespect for “The Great ME” is all he sees in this rivalry for his property.
He sees she succeeds with this non-minority.
To the door during their adoring greeting Jealousy creeps,
Like Flash he slash the throat of the one he knows,
Then at speed stabs repeatedly the one she greets,
As he tries to flee from Jealousy.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Morning Has Broken - 1

Morning has broken as it has done for many years
Day to day we continue without the fear of fears
Then out of the blue their comes thoughts from long ago
Prophecies of a past, that could halt us humans flow

Tablets scribed in gold, have been uncovered in Peru
For in them they tell of the future, surrounding me and you
We await with fervour in the media, the radio and the t.v.
As I try to get my head around it, and what it means to me

The day that they speak of, it's a little over a year
Do we just laugh if off, or do the sensible in us fear
As I drive through my city, towards this impending day
The street corners start to fill, does panic have it's say

Speakers start to recite, of this doom that welcomes we
I see suicides in escalation, jumpers in front off me
Families leave their homes, for they no not where to go
Panic buying surrounds me, anarchy appears to flow

We now reach December 2012, as we gain on the scribed day
Can it be all that was written, have the ancient had their say
My eyes catch the clock, midnight is awaiting it's strike
It'll be the twenty first of December, are the Mayan scribes right

The minutes pass the hour, everything appears to be normal
Maybe the writes are fables, to them simply formal
To pacify myself, will it be the radio or the t.v.
Sometimes one has to ask oneself, to simply look and see

Visions on the screen appear, many screens my eyes do view
Reports from many countries are brought to me and you
They show events of nature, more fierce than naturally so
Rainfall in arid areas, deserts in metres off snow

The Polar ice caps start cracking, exploding ice in crying break
Mudslides now carry cities, everything caught in their wake
Bangladesh now no longer exists, the Maldives have disappeared
The Mariana Trench now starts to rise, her ridges in rampant rear

A bulletin catches my ears, Yellowstone has started to erupt
Is this what the scribes have warned of, our planet being so abrupt
A rumbling I start to feel, where I stand I feel I move
I'm in tumble across my floor, in fear of their impending prove

My apartment on the only hill, allows through my window to view
A giant fissure slices through my city, for into it, buildings spew
The free ways now broken and torn, many cars in tumbledown
From here I hear the screaming voices, I'm deafened by their drown







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

Premium Member I'M a Teen This Is What I Struggle With

{This "Free Verse" entry Received HONORABLE MENTIONS
              IN THE Intergenerational Poetry to Bridge the Generation
                    Contest UNO  Elders & Youth track" 2017
                                  UNIVERSITY OF OMAHA
                                    OMAHA, NEBRASKA}
                        (I was the only male entry in contest)
                               
                                     October 15, 2017



                   I'm A Teen This is What I Struggle With

I’m a teenager I’m upset depressed
Being so,
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
And I ain’t gonna call you mam or sir
That’s in the history books nobody does that anymore
I represent 30 percent of us that are one or been bullied
All adults want to do is make us study
I close to being grown you don’t understand
I know as much or more than a woman or man
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
I am tired of always being diss
I ‘m a teen this is what I struggle with
Feel like I’m imprisoned, these are our teen issues
I have a right it’s my body part selective if I selective
It’s my life if I choose to be sexually active
My life complicated I’m not the only one you used drugs smoke pot now what
Back in your day
Getting drunk the past month I also say
My life, my right again you did that too by the way
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
I am tired of always being diss
My message is I’m not heard, I’m hurt
I eat the wrongs things I get big obese some of us throw up
You can call it stayin thin being bulimic
Can’t get no education, don’t have patients for them
They can’t teach or tell me nothing gonna drop of school
Maybe I’ll join the Army
Where are the grownups when I have my problems peer pressure?
They don’t have an answer for them
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
I am tired of always being diss
The sexting, hot man what a body, But when I get older that picture still out there
Don’t have to be beaten up physically now it’s done electronically, on social media
Just when I think I can control my life and mind
On screen violence TV shows, movies and violence video games
Keep me wake for weeks and days
I am tired of always being diss
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with

09/26/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
for Intergenerational Poetry To Bridge Generations Elders & Youth 2017 Contest


The Quieter You Are

ENOUGH!

I felt deaf from the ‘noise’ of information,
constantly butting, buzzing against my mantra of:
“The quieter you are… the more you… hear!”
At present, my lifestyle felt media manipulated:
tv, radio, newspaper, mobile, computer.. ad infinitum!
Besieged by endless emails, monopolizing mobiles,
beset by frenzied yaps from apps!
Enough is enough is….. ENOUGH, 
I have to escape from the unrelenting hullabaloo.
Can the human brain endure so much information
and who am I, an individual thinker or group dancer?

However, relief sat just around the corner
as next morning I boarded the flight to Reykjavik.
A three-hour taxi journey with a taciturn islander, 
people and communication diminishing by the mile
until finally a twig of a boat out to Ellidaey Island.
Boating and bobbing towards the uninhabited …hideaway,
an isolated jigsaw piece of land
off the southern coast of Iceland,
I appraise a small-boned building clinging to its side
with ‘RIDICULOUS’ scribbled all over it.

Someone had said Iceland was a niceland
where you could float free, peace and tranquillity!
But someone hadn’t warned me about…Mr Loneliness 
Who was soon tapping me sharply on the shoulder.
So here I sit, three days into my week’s stay
in the island’s lodge, dubbed the world’s loneliest house,
where the only neighbours are passing ships and puffing puffins.
No internet, no tv, no electricity, no running nor strolling.. water
just remote, alone and contemplating my countenance
while wondering if God is lonely too!

Suddenly, clouds bump and bruise against each other 
as they race away before the darkness snarls in.
Soon, night has sent in its stormtroopers
who land and splinter into shadow groups
while wind angrily sprints up to the house
bombing it with blockbuster punches.
Then rain happily joins in, machine-gunning the house 
until the building begins to stagger and stumble.
I check my face and it is still in the same place
but I sit timorously trembling, tyrannised and terrified
while my eyes follow the house’s dimly lit path
as it wags its tail to the cliff’s edge
and jumps into the void of darkness.
But this poem is a broken wrist, with a twist,
as suddenly, my bones brittle and inside myself…..I faint!
What possibly could happen now?
But there it is..
the knock at the front door!             


Ian Souter
© Ian Souter  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Chronicles of the Pied Piper of Mar-A-Lago

I'm not sure how it all began, 
When this soothsayer became heroic to some.
As he molded a story of greatness,
Against what our nation has now become.

Those that listened were mesmerized by his fable,
As he wove a tale of conspiracy and doubt.
Then his minions spread the veil of shadows,
To every corner with whispers they could shout.

Almost miraculously, this mirage became a leader,
Beginning a reign that some wish to forget.
But his actions won't be lost to history,
Since the aftermath lives on to regret.

Early on in his term of division, the
Tactics would erode basic trusts once held high.
Such that... we are a nation made up almost entirely of
Non-natives, yet that must stop, & he'll build a wall with lies.

Soon after, attacks were focused on the media,
As 'fake news' ran rampant in the press.
While the mouthpieces, such as, Hannity and Tucker,
Provided his message to the ignorant, more or less.

It wasn't long before this infection on credibility,
Attacked our very own intelligence community next.
Because ol' 45 would disparage the CIA & others,
Preferring Kim Jong and Putin's rhetoric and text.

Now to be fair, he did accomplish something...
A huge tax-cut that the wealthy endorsed.
So while the rich got richer, the melody sang loudly,
While the poverty of others was reinforced.

Throughout this one-term the primary focus,
Seemed to be undoing everything his predecessor had done.
Now while most of these efforts were negated,
The passionate pursuit gave himself, so much fun.

The ongoing hatred towards Obama and Hilary,
Was a constant theme in the Trump-laden White House.
Lending fuel to the fire of partisan politics, while
Staff and contemporaries posed quietly as a mouse.

The end of this pathetic term was filled with failure,
As dual impeachments and the lost election were to blame.
Followed by legal matters that consumed a nation,
As proud followers were jailed in his name.

Yet the MAGA minority spread far & wide to the horizon,
Where vocal women shamelessly sought his favor to gain.
So between Marjorie, Lauren, and Kari...
Their BDE chorus was tuned to deny any pain.

While conducting this orchestra of disaster,
A nation held hostage, sought truth in the wake.
To the point where regardless of convictions or pardons,
Our Constitution and democracy, will not be proven fake.

Other People's Freedom, Part I

Autumn though of herself as a kind soul,
and she took great pride in her compassion,
she believed things could be made perfect,
and her voting reflected this fashion.

She was to see that the wealth was shared,
and that people were nice in their words,
since so few out there ever recognized
how what they said could offend and disturb.

If folks would only learn some basic tact
then everything would run more smoothly,
and she was so glad to help elect leaders
who would take a strong stand against ‘hate speech.’

One day she saw on social media
a report about a conspiracy man
who liked to breath fire when he spoke his mind,
so the tech giants all had him banned.

But she didn’t think that much about it,
she’d never liked that fellow anyway,
so she shrugged it off as unimportant,
and mindlessly went about her day.

A month later she saw some new footage
of men’s right activists under attack,
for trying to change the family courts
they were set upon by hoodlums in black.

But Autumn did not care much for their cause,
opposing women was beyond the pale,
why listen to fools who had never been told
that the future ‘belonged to females?’

A year after that a church made the news
when it refused to marry two men,
the pastor tried to explain his reasons,
but ‘Anti-fascists’ just threw rocks at him.

Autumn just shook her head at the scene,
had not the pastor heard of the new laws?
Who was he to claim that he knew the truth?
To exclude folks on the word of his ‘God?’

Three months later, in campaign season,
a brash man roused the crowds with his rants,
said all sorts of things she found horrible,
it was really getting out of hand.

And when the networks block out all his ads,
and refused to cover his rallies,
Autumn felt that peace had been restored,
there were ‘standards’ to democracy.

Then a year later a new judge declared
that ‘hateful words’ were not protected,
Autumn was glad, progress would be made!
She eagerly waited for what lay ahead…

Over the next two years many people
ran afoul of this new ‘moral code,’
it started with fines, then came prison time,
hundreds, then thousands, to the jails did go.

Autumn started to feel a bit uneasy
at all the chaos that it had caused,
but every change came with some trial,
and those people had broken the laws...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Be You

Foundation.

With the considerable rise of AI software on all social media and business platforms, will humanity lose its creative edge?

Will you be tempted to do so?

Title:
Be You 

(A lone voice whispers)

Be You
Forgo assimilation

And try to avoid being spellbound and tied into the new B System 

Dream and aspire before you're retired

With all your soul's, inner resistance 

Don't be bound to mundane hearts, no longer open to being plowed, with ravenous curious fingers

Hearts enslaved into a dark broken Labyrinth of unspoken, and untold things

Which could linger

From sad souls who've cried, as their creativity withered and died

Absorbed by the cleverly assimilated imagery and well created lies

To be one of the many lonely wanderers

Tumbling blind through inspirations now barren playgrounds

As the new, AI Hive Minds, long reach fires up to reteach 

Newly breached, unconnected human firewalls

While wild valley blackbirds and starling flocks

Scream and call out in unison, at the lack of the rising poetry

Music or literature, filled with human energy 

As spiritual temperatures worldwide, fall

Putting ingenuity into jeopardy

Screeching about the impending icy cold bath of human separation 

As they fly as huge wailing flocks, into the Summer Equinox

With the frosty breath, of AI Death of the Soul 

Lingering around like black mold

With bony fingers
Rattling without a sound

Awaiting its resurrection 
As daylight recedes and people seem to lose hope

But on that Devil's Island for some of the Condemned 

The one called Earth

The Exalted Ones
Maybe like you

Unassimilated and still free

Can lift up the trapped 
Those poor souls caught up in The Hive Mind

Slowly been drained of personality and self identity 

Lost in the humankind labyrinth of the unspoken and untold

Who needs releasing to help rebuild the new pillars of creativity upon Earth

With their eventual rebirth 

This my friend with the bright eyes unseen 

Has always been a worthy oath to follow

For you've always been free to share your gift of uplifting 

Energetic, raw, and visual

Literature
Music or poetry 

Maybe bestowed 
From The Sacred Temples of Apollo 

What's says you?

Are you going to strive to stay the real you?


(C) Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme

The Utopian One World State

--Evil starts as germinated seeds,
noxious weeds of social infestation,
spreading and suffocating human diversity,
pushing all freedoms into extinction,
the loss of Liberty's creed,,
--Men-Women birth their offspring,
but raised by the State,
alienated offspring grow into bastards,
by design to this fate,
no-longer is Family an understanding,,
--Started in guise of education,
parasitic propaganda by subliminal indoctrination,
targeting children of all ages,
instructing apart from parental objections,
future groupthink masses of inclusion,,
--Religion, History, Novel books outlawed,
that promote ideas of Independence,
instructional manuals that's only allowed,
through State approved media correspondence,
making State approved "truths" unflawed,,
--The masses become Independent-less adults,
in a One World State,
populations regulated, mandated birth controls,
but elitists can freely consummate, 
elitist offspring perpetuates State results,,
--The State espouses universal equality,
a mandate against humanity's will,
a law silencing humanity's opinions,
or voicing your opinions from jail,
the State sees as insanity,,
--Humanity becomes living taxed products,
feeding the machines of State,
their worth is what's produced,
fearing for failing to compensate,
you're redistributed, if you obstruct,,
--Populations are kept under intoxication,
by the State approved vice(s),
the willing are comfortably numb,
happiness of suffrage the price,
humanity's compliance made through addiction,,
--Outlawed are self-governed rights,
by State tyranny without impunity,
your lives owned until death,
because you are State property,
all controlled by elitist might,,
--Physical privacy regarded as hate,
pedo-molestation considered universally normal,
it matters not your sexuality,
to all ages so formal,
criminal when reject this fate,,
--Evil that's made a right,
guilt is replaced with ethics,
fundamental good is considered evil,
by the State centered civics,
moral evil in everyone's sight,,
--This is a living nightmare,
that insidiously penetrates humanity's soul,
a world never knowing Hope,
or escaping something this cruel,
the State of Evil despair,,
--Freedom, Liberty and self-governance,
does this sound that bad?,-
it's better than being property,
by a State grown Mad,
or take a standing chance.
© S.K. Y.  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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