Long Messier Poems
Long Messier Poems. Below are the most popular long Messier by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Messier poems by poem length and keyword.
We're so sweet like a tiny ball of sugar,
But so fragile when handled with pressure.
I'll sweep us into a coffee off of the counter,
So I won't let us go to waste forever.
I am so sweet yet can dissolve in water,
Becoming so enmeshed with you, my lover.
Before though, you told me to keep-together.
But unfortunately, I am so fragile like sugar.
You yourself are so sweet like sugar,
Your sincere love does make me feel better,
As I have coffee, feeling under my weather.
Sometimes like water on sugar, I am messier.
We can be so sweet, but also rough in texture,
Just like the finest refined white sugar.
Too much can lead to either of us being bitter,
But our sweet bond is what will always matter.
Ever try eating a Soft Taco Supreme
And not appear like a glutton
With stuff squirting out all over yourself
Down to your old bellybutton
It's all about this amazing experience
Wouldn't be as enjoyable without it
So forget about all those damn cleaning bills
They're part of the joyous trip
As you chomp away with gay abandon
The messier the better, for sure
Without the mess, you ain't no aficionado
Just someone trying to act mature
Acting prim and proper when eating a taco
Has never been part of the scene
So dig right in, the messier the better
Be a proud taco eating machine
My mother didn’t cook too well
Although she fed us fine.
Her house was not immaculate,
Much messier than mine.
She didn’t knit, crochet or quilt
But she was great at sports;
She swam and bowled and tennised
Really well, by all reports.
And oh, could she dance up a storm!
She crossword-puzzled, too.
When things were good or bad for me,
Somehow, she always knew.
She passed down many of her traits
But no, I cannot dance
And barely swim but I can bowl,
Though rarely have the chance.
I do the crossword every day
But like her, hate to cook.
While she escaped in naps,
I disappear inside a book.
We all have inclinations
That our parents have bestowed,
Though babies make us wonder
What is waiting down the road.
We hope that they’ll inherit
Just those qualities we’d pick
But we have no way of knowing
What will fade and what will stick.
They said they had found a path to light,
They claimed to have seen the way to Zion.
They revelled in the pleasure of their discovery,
They were granted the joy of their findings.
They insisted they needed no guiding hand,
They believed they required no leading light.
They argued that the mind that knows can lead the eyes that see,
They proclaimed their will to be the blooming meadow of their tomorrow.
But no sooner had they begun their journey than their eyes were opened to their woven differences.
As soon as they started their walk, the darkness within them emerged.
They struggled with one another,
The vitriol within spilled out,
And the dominance of the majority became their primal goal,
Causing them to lose sight of Zion.
Gradually, it became messier than they realized.
They wallowed in the mire of their deeds,
The gloom of their actions pervaded their path,
They fought among themselves, devastating their productive space,
It was a situation of ruined glory.
They were wearied by the burdens resting on their shoulders,
They were fatigued by their incessant troubles,
They were tired of their trail of darkness.
They cried out to the Divine, wondering if He heard them,
Yet nothing seemed to change,
And the absurd still ruled the day.
Oh Divine, come to our rescue,
Lead the atrocious dog to the forest of no return,
Send the sharks to the abyss of stygian nights.
Let the sand reject the footprints of the malevolent,
And let the sky frown upon the nefarious.
His words were mixed with tears
As he knelt on the mountain, bearing the pain of his feeble knees.
Star Wars day came to an end, spent it wisely with my best friend,
We had different paths to ascend.
We still reminisce to this day of good times had.
And to the other friend I lost connection with I’m not mad.
We all take the good with the bad.
But we out grow ourselves and most performances are fads.
I spent many years more laying on the floor,
Drooling and insecure,
Looking for answers in bottles and doubting my troubles obscured.
It took a lot of work, real work not fun,
It’s the day to day and fighting the feeling to run for the rum.
I lost friends too, like the one I called hun now thinks I’m a bum.
That day taught me something real and raw,
I didn’t have to play that old role anymore.
It’s a choice and you deserve better,
It’s not always clean, in fact it’s messier than ever, but better than before.
But better feeling is great when you don’t have existential prangs accompanied by a physical shiver.
That day the force got stronger and the Death Star was destroyed,
Like my journey don’t ask me about how never ending Star Wars is, I’ll be annoyed.
I hope you see, you can just be, be me, feel free, identity is just expression of glee, Lordy trust me, breaking free of escapee devotee, addressee to anyone holding a key.
Don’t ask me don’t tell me, how a bumble bee sees. I’ll humbly disagree with any lesson not fought be anyone that won’t travel by stars and sea.
Ever try eating a Soft Taco Supreme
And not appear like a glutton
With stuff squirting out all over yourself
Down to your old bellybutton
It's all about this amazing experience
Wouldn't be as enjoyable without it
So forget about all those damn cleaning bills
They're part of the joyous trip
As you chomp away with gay abandon
The messier the better, for sure
Without the mess, you ain't no aficionado
Just someone trying to act mature
Acting prim and proper when eating a taco
Has never been part of the scene
So dig right in, the messier the better
Be a proud taco eating machine
© Jack Ellison 2014
Beaming brilliant beautiful bright stars.
These diamonds, twinkling, sparkling.
Diamonds hung in the black velvet night.
They shinning like diamond crystal lights.
The Sun’s radiant light.
A heavenly hot heavy circular sphere.
Our planetary system is orbiting it.
Icy comets are extending their tail and rolling by.
Rocky asteroids, saying hi and good-bye.
Meteorites, streaking, passing in the day and night skies.
Multicolor are the cloudy nebulae.
These are Orion, Helix, Crab, Eagle and Ring.
Horsehead, Owl, Tarantula and Omega.
All having stunning stars in them.
Galaxies with different shapes: some are Spirals.
Some Galaxies shapes are called a Bar-Spiral.
Galaxies shapes that are Elliptical.
Galaxies shapes that are most Irregular.
Galaxies names like: Milky Way - looking milky,
Whirlpool is whirly, Tadpole looks like a tadpole,
The Sombrero - looking like a Sombrero,
The Crown of Thorns - looks like a crown of thorns,
The Cartwheel, that cartwheels,
Andromeda, Messier 87 and Sunflower, etc.
An over estimated 200 billion and more galaxies.
A Super Massive Black Hole are in most of their middle.
Over time there are big bangs, of Super-Novas exploding.
A Quasar, brightest of all the Cosmos lights.
The Universe filled with stars with colors of all various types.
An over estimated 200 billion and more galaxies.
A Super Massive Black Hole are in most of their middle.
Over time there are big bangs, of Super-Novas exploding.
A Quasar, brightest of all the Cosmos lights.
The Universe filled with stars with colors of all various types.
A panorama, full of spectacular, splendid visual sites.
A God made amazing showcase theater thriller, block buster.
The eagle mistook me for a bunny. She swooped down and picked me up from the field, and we went soaring high in the sky, past the swing set, past the fence, past the tree line, up, up, up.
She tightened her grasp, but I did not mind. I had never flown like this before, out in the open, with the robins who gawked as we flew past. It was fun looking down at my house from the sky, and not from an airplane window. I waved at my neighbor, and was disappointed that she did not see me.
This magnificent bird got me to a mountain ledge and dropped me where three adorable eaglets were waiting. “LUNCH!” she announced, and she flew off. I made them grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, and we had chocolate pie with whipped cream for dessert. Then we took a little nap.
These eaglets were much more appreciative than my own children, so I decided to stay. I fixed them banana pancakes, and blackberry cobbler, and meatloaf, and hot bread. After a month or so, they started to take advantage of me. They wanted me to start cleaning their bedrooms, and they were a lot messier than my own children, so I climbed down and walked back home.
poems become
interchangeable
remove
the image
the poem
remains
when synapses
misfire
identity
disperses
before death
arrives
when the hands
forget
the song
the Martin
OM-45 Deluxe
inscribed in spruce
and mother-of-pearl
the third fret
worn smooth
by G
an archive
of vanished
movements
most poems
observe
others collect
surfaces
fallen leaves
frozen ponds
abandoned chapels
secondhand
transcendence
rehearsed
astonishment
mistaking
recognition
for revelation
few descend
into
distressed
consciousness
where nothing
remains
clean
is messier
no idle
observations
consciousness
a spiral
of repitition
residue—
not the subject
only the
substitution
the mosquito
bite
of fungibility
==========
Was it insanity or brilliance that stood calling my name?
I woke out of a deep sleep, disoriented, desiring an explanation.
My heart was beating triple time. Was this a heart attack then?
Don’t be any crazier than you have been, urged my persnickety muse.
Let’s get up and write something.
I knew it would not be anything that could appeal to the masses.
I have never related to any of them.
They want clean sheets and neat drawers.
I am not one to iron clothes or sweep a driveway.
The messier the room, the better; I have a hoarder’s habits.
Don’t write that! Said my muse.
My anti-muse laughed, wanting me to.
My heart had stopped beating now.
Not entirely, probably, but it had slowed down.
Pick up that pen! I rolled my eyes at the voice.
Cognizant that whatever I wrote today I would not recognize tomorrow.
I am a frenzied writer, channeling spirit, insanely clairaudient.