Long Men Poems
Long Men Poems. Below are the most popular long Men by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Men poems by poem length and keyword.
Flying over the front lines
with the French Escadrille Lafayette
a brown and barren belt below
a strip of murdered nature and yet
during the warm months of spring and summer
seeds in the shattered ground would grow
delicate vibrant crimson flowers
in row after row after row
and in those poppy fields
that's how we remember them
all the fallen soldiers
those unforgotten gallant men
tho' Waterloo was won in a day
in a mad minute this battle was waged
while larks sang overhead in the month of May
four weeks and more it raged
before they beat the Hun had them on the run
it soon became apparent to the allied commanders
it's a long way from the playing fields of Eton
to the poppy fields of Flanders
Over the ocean's creed
Lie in waiting with foreign breed.
Heavy metals laced the ocean's petals
En-route to the creek in cargoed cans.
Rice from the fields of Thailand,
Iced fishes from freezing Iceland.
Craps of computer hardware from Shenzen,
Packs of frozen skeletal turkeys from China.
Smuggled contrabands in hidden sacks
Matches and toothpicks from Japan's racks.
Cornfield of men at the wharf
Old and young, giant and dwarf
Exposing chest to the moment cling
Hurling sacks of rice the cargoes bring
Staggering weightless like David's sling
"No food for the lazy" the saying goes
When the ships come to berth,
Able men to the harbor dart.
A wave of pity descends my lung
Watching men so silly and strong-
Getting strangled beneath heavy loads,
Smiling wickedly at crumpled notes.
If only those energies could grace a trade,
And suffocate beneath the weights of knowledge.
When those ships come to berth,
May be they will someday leave this shore
Filled with the toil they bore
With our local brands in foreign lands.
The world’s on edge of a disaster,
As man both deaf and dumb has gone,
Clueless at crest with empty bluster,
The world’s on edge of a disaster,
Helpless, man’s fallen flat, and faster,
Fruits of his sin averse to own,
The world’s on edge of a disaster,
As man both deaf and dumb has gone.
__________________________________
Reflections |10.07.2023| Triolet, world
Poet’s note: Triolet is a short poem of rhyme and repetition. We can call this a modern English Triolet. It is generally set in iambic foot, and ends with what is often called a masculine ending. Here, the lines rhyming with the first line end with an amphibrach (a feminine ending).
Cutting through the matrix, I'm cutting through the matrix, gonna make it, what I wanna
make I can Make and when I make it, people gonna hate it, but gonna have to face it, I'm
cutting through the matrix , Know 3 men and an army will look to s.t.o.p this but you can not
stop this, will not stop I, so I'm a freeman no freedum but I'm dum free, please believe me.
Cutting through the matrix, I'm cutting through the matrix, gonna formulate it, what I wanna
formulate, I can Give rise to it and when I build it, people gonna hate it, but gonna have to
face it, I'm cutting through the matrix , Know 3 men and an army will look to interrupt this
but you can not discontinue this, will not impede I, so I'm a freeman no more Self-
Destruction but Full Free will, please believe this.
Tallan J bent (c) 27/11/2009 11:09Hrs
Snoring bush pig
Relishing in reverie like a hog
Trudge on day-dreaming
Wandering beyond yonder
Think of no blunder in wonder-trance
Junking the Fourth Estate
Jumping at the Fifth Columnist Estate
The men in trance
Unsuspectingly saddled with the
Family’s mantle of leadership
Their eyelids basking to write
Their smiles determined to rite
Their yawn yawning to be tasked
Their heads rearing to go nodding
Like an Agama lizard
Their pen roaring with passion to
Dot nothing but ink
Their hands jostling to paste articles
As they took over
We dreamt of turn over
But they added nothing over
Except for our left over
Alas !!!!
We were all hoodwinked
They deluded us into something
Their leader gallivanting all over for nothing
In the mad rush for anything out of something
They foolishly lavish nothing
But Indolence of something
Vanishing into lethargy of nothing
Ink they could not dot
Meetings they organise not
Programmes became a thing of rot
September 24th Lecture of Late Layi Balogun
Our late Grand Patron went without a piece for lot
The family had survived
A silver jubilee this year
But with everybody in trance
Sleeping and snoring heavily
Soaring to nothing actually
When queried
They wink hush-hush eem-eem . . .
With a promise of something in vanity
What men are these?
For half a pen year
No child was born or adopted
Into the lovely family
For they slept snoring under
A tree called Fig
What men are these?
But . . .
May be . . .
But . . .
May be we should take solace
And console ourselves with courage
That those who sleep and snore
Can be woken up with water
And fire to figure out the unrepentant fig
We should for the last time
Live in another Paradise of illusion
That those that are in trance
Will wake up and refuse to die
It is only then
That a new family will be born
To restore the fading glory
Of the once glorious 25 years old JC family
The time is now!
The time is now!!
Now is the time!!!.
Alayande Stephen Tolulope
Immediate Past President, Journalists’ Club,UI
For and on behalf of Past Presidents,Journalists’ Club,UI
Oct.2nd,2005
9.45am
Form:
Apollo,
God of prophecy, music and eloquence
Had advised Man two things he had to do
In order the truth of things to discover
And as a result to see the world anew:
"Know Thyself" and " Nothing in Excess"
The son of Zeus emphatically declared
In that way the path to wisdom you find
Thus better for you it is to be prepared
Stop trying to locate your God far away
High up a mountain or on the floor of the sea
For God in the depths of your soul is found
Waiting for you one day to be able Him to see
Close your eyes, your ears, your nose, your mouth
Hold back your hands and touch things no more
Remain thus immobile and in absolute silence
If you ever wish to perceive, eternity's divine door
Take notice of what to you Man I, Apollo, say
Make certain every step you take to be the right one
Avoid excess or deficiency in all that you are doing
Keep your soul in balance, for to see how all is done!*
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
10 June 2016
* My poem has nothing to do with religious believes whatsoever.
It is just a poem that focuses on the knowledge of the self which was
a main theme in the ancient Greek philosophy that had understood
that the door to knowledge was found within us, in our soul! So please,
do not connect my poem with the HOLY Bible. It is just history. When someone writes on dragons does he worship dragons?
AND ON THAT DAY…
(APROPOS MLK: PART 1)
And on that day we will rise
And raise the hued shades of ignorance
And let the light of truth shine on our souls
And purify our hearts with warm rays of hope.
And on that day we will rise
And see rumors of wars sucked into black holes of peace.
And the phoenix birds shall give birth to cooing doves.
And on that day we shall confront our humanity
And boldly say to it, you must become all we can be;
And seek forgiveness for the acts that trampled the will of God;
And hope for redemption for the shredded dreams deferred.
And on that day America shall awaken from her slumber
And stretch forth her weary arms yawning a Nicodemus yawn.
And that day shall be the dawning of new beginnings;
And the chameleon shall change its colors no more.
And each hued hope shall be woven into the fabric of common destiny.
And the wheels of time shall roll us over into the New Jerusalem…
And on that day America will sing a new song;
And it shall be: My country’s tears to thee…
And on that day God will say: Well Done!
I wish I had a male man who was around my age, not married, not in a relationship, very understanding and willing to accept my imperfections.
I wish I had a male man where our communication would be top notch. Someone I could share my thoughts with, someone I could talk to throughout the day, anytime of the day.
I wish I had a male man, one who doesn't have to lie. What's the purpose of lying? Just be open and honest, because honesty to me is the way to be. Yeah, one who would be a man of his word. If he said he would call, he would call. If he said he would come, he would come. If he said he would do, he would do.
I wish I had a male man, someone who is not about no drama, no jealously. Yeah, someone who's not stuck up and stubborn, one who doesn't harbor hurt. The past is the past, I can't change his, I can't change mine.
I wish I had a male man that is patient, peaceful and playful. A man that's down to earth, just a funny, friendly, carefree guy. Someone who's not afraid to let loose and live. One I can pray with, play with and lay with, without no stipulations, just snugs and hugs. Someone at times who can keep me warm, someone I can fall asleep in his arms. One who makes me laugh and is just about fun.
I wish I had a male man, someone to take walks with, slide, ride, take a drive, travel. You know, a get up and go kind of guy - Let's do it, just do it. One who makes me smile just thinking of him. One who will play checkers, eat burnt toast, dance to the music, talk through the movie, throw rocks in the bayou, let me rub his feet...
Yeah, I wish I had a male man.
Two young boys read about gold and adventure, this started a life long obsession.
The years went by, school-jobs and a business to buy.
Gold and adventure would fill their soul, now these young boys have turned into men of old. Still looking for that one huge load, they went to an island in a far off land. Many have died here but the story says one more to go, then the treasure and adventure will be done. Could this all be just plain fork lore or maybe it is all gone, what year will finish this story-what year will finish this adventure.
Two young boys still wanting to find the gold and adventure,
still not ready to give up.
Date Written: 2/28/2021
1 Place
Note: My write is about a true sorry that is still going on to this day.
"Vanishing" old or new for a prize Contest Judged: 3/1/2021 Sponsored by:Carolyn Devonshire
OLD MEN WALKING TO THE SEA
GOING DOWN HILL THREE BY THREE
FOAMING MIST AND DISTANT THUNDER
OCEANS DEEP AND FILLED WITH WONDER
PASSING GATE AND ANCIENT TREE
HEAR THE MORNING SEA BIRD SCREE
LIVING LIFE BY SEASON'S CLOCK
WALKING TO THE WOODEN DOCK
FOGGY IS THE GRAYISH SKY
LOOKING CHILLY TO THE EYE
CLOSER NOW WE’LL SOON BE GONE
FISHING WELL BEFORE THE DAWN
DEW SITS ON THE MORNING FLOWER
WAITING FOR THE SUNSHINE HOUR
MUDDY IS THE WALKING PATH
STILL WET FROM THE STORMY WRATH
BUNDLED NETS IN OPEN BOAT
KNITTED HAT AND SEAMAN'S COAT
FRIGID AIR AND SALTY TASTE
ICY FEEL UPON THE FACE
SMELL THE BRINE AND SALTY AIR
SEE THE MAIN MAST CANVAS FLARE
POINT THE VESSEL TO THE WIND
MAKE THE MIGHTY SEA YOUR FRIEND
SUN IS RISING IN THE EAST
FOGGY MORNING MIST RELEASED
CAST THE NET AND SET IT RIGHT
CIRCLE LEFT TO MAKE IT TIGHT
SAYING NOW THE FISHER’S PRAYER
THAT THE MORNING CATCH IS FAIR
THAT THE ENDLESS, LIVING SEA
PROVIDE THE GIFT OF LIFE TO THEE
PULLING NOW AND FEEL THE PAIN
OF THE BONE AND MUSCLE STRAIN
HEAR THE FISHER'S GOD DECREE
YOU TAKE THE BOUNTY FROM THE SEA
AND NOW THE DAY WAS FAIRLY WON
AND NOW THE STORIES CAN BE SPUN
WHEN OLD MEN TALK AS OLD MEN DO
ABOUT THE TIMES THAT THEY ONCE KNEW
SITTING IN THE VILLAGE PUB
SMOKY ROOM AND STEAMING GRUB
RUDDY FACE AND TOOTHLESS GRIN
GRAYISH STUBBLE ON THE CHIN
TALES ARE TOLD AND SOME ARE TRUE
LAUGHTER FROM THE FISHER’S CREW
OLD MEN LIVING BY THE SEA
THEIR LIFE A LIVING SYMPHONY