Long Metronomic Poems

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


DELIVERY: PAUSED

A puddle tremors
beneath the tyre's basso hum—
the firmament sunk
to pewter.
The carrier rattles: lentils, peas,
metal worrying bone.
A pulse conducts him forward.

Delivered: Client 11.
Returned: Client 34.
Address not located: Client 66.

Wet asphalt exhales iron.
An elder’s hand
alights upon the parcel—
warmth threading apprehension.
Peppermint breath,
a fissured laugh.
He smiles, tasting
the ghost of something kept.

Past encampments—
blankets breathing with damp.
Protein bars nested
like provisional vows.
Gloves saturated. Knees ossified.
The city persists.

Then—
the pavement shears.
Snap.
Night fractures.
Blood unfurls, intimate, undeniable.
Gravity exacts its claim.

The phone convulses.
Where is my order?
How long?

“Hospital,” he says.
“Leg fractured. Haemorrhaging”

Urgent: Client 12.
Order incomplete: Client 47.

The device keeps cadence
with his heart.

Hospital fluorescence.
Ferric tang on the tongue.
Antiseptic’s reprimand.
Even supine, he inventories the load.
The system does not abate.

Then—
his father’s voice, unaccelerated:

“Son,
have you remembered to nourish yourself
while sustaining the appetites of others?”

He reclines.
Pain metronomic. Motion unceasing.
Something within him
finally granted
repose.


WTC Postman Pat




Another hallowed arrow from his quivers

One of cricket’s greatest shiver givers

Coursing down your spine like rivers

Fine line..never dithers as slivers 

Of adversaries hopes on the ropes..withers

Tipples tickle our livers

The latest tropes of how

Somehow…anyhow won’t kowtow

Postman Pat delivers


Matinee idol looks tease

Record books hooks please

Finds batters crannies & 

Nooks with such ease


Impeccable length…metronomic 

Chin music chagrin

Such strength..astronomic

Gift of getting the ball to lift

Chronic bounce…hedonic


With his swag bag of quicks tricks

Name on the adored hall of fame 

Lords boards with six..another Cummins elite fix

Beat Bob Willis’s record tome of the best 

Test figures for a captain at cricket’s home..


Yep..yet another done like a kipper

By this chipper ripper skipper

Who’s not found wanting

His chiselled jaw..up there for sure 

With the mean hardcore

Ponting or Waugh

As the best Test baggie green

Top draw Captain (not woke...just a better bloke) seen on screen

Or that’s maybe ever been
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Metronomic Heirloom


Written: April 08, 2024

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morphing into an appealing landscape,
gathered around a table embrace. 
In the connection of family mindscape.
We find sanctuary in this precious place. 

It engulfs you and completes its task,
a ghostly husk that is waxy and pale.
Dreams that last, a disturbing mask.
A table decorated with a phantom tale

Heirloom, the pink hearts flap, 
In rhythm, they dance a poetic trap.
A heart, still beating, with metronomic grace,
twitching forks, dancing in the space.
 
Melodies in the air, a symphony's prism. 
Their metallic bodies, alive with grace, 
In utopian harmony, they find their place.
Never shall your children hear such schism

In whispers gentle and voices clear,
a secret kept, forever near, 
Hidden in the depths, so dear.
Trusting even amid fear.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

A coppersmith barbet


O greenish blue neighbour of mine
across my kitchen window, sunning in shine
perching very high on the doctor's house fig tree
resonating your tunk...tunk louder than metronomic glee

Saw you today, puffing your yellow throat,
the silk floss petals plucking with your hand glove
bobbing your red head and flicking bluish tail,
have you tracked a sincere mate?

have you picked a red berry or two for your consort,
hope allopreening is not building on snort?
what about fluttering your blue grey black wings side by side ?
start a "Beak Game" in a full stride?

Keep flight straight, with rapid flaps
Be away from that, extortionist Blue-throated barbet
avoid flying klepto red-vented songbird,
eyeing at your red berries and  burd.
PS:A coppersmith (barbet) , very old next tree neighbour, annoying sometimes by her incessant calls ,many times reminds me that that is how a life goes on

Premium Member The Grandfather Clock

He stands the test of time
And reassures my day
That thudding steady rhyme
The swishing arm that sways
The echo of the tick
Resounds around the hall
Close followed by the tock
It's rattled close to call
I love to make up rhyme
Against this beating drum
It gently passes time
And has since time began

He's seen life come and go
This wise old man of time
Through fads and fashion shows
He beats his steady rhyme
His hand moves with a click
His metronomic hum
The seconds duly tick
My heartbeat matched it's drum
The silence never still
As hands move passed and play
Another moment gone
We tick another day

The shame of once forgetting
To wind his welcomed key
To realise too late
That he's stopped his symmetry
The rush to hear him tick
We urgently do wind
Until that faithful click
Does fast appease my mind
His pendulum now waves
Hypnotic in it's rhyme
The ever present giveaway
That we have limited time

The family that cherished him
The generations passed
The keepers of his key did wind
Until their breath was last
My father and his father too
Did play once in this hall
And every chime did count
A game for one and all
The solitude I felt
Alone except the tick
I'd hours spend just listening
The drum of constant clicks

I barely knew my grandfather
But through his clock I find
His presence undeniable
Each time that I rewind
He smiles a tick, chimes a tock
His pendulum he waves
His voice still spoken through the thud
That echo that enslaves
Your wisdom I do count upon
Your melancholic rhyme
Reminds live each day fullest son
You've scarcely any time

The throbbing tick
It's sequel tock
I watch my life
Go round the clock
And Grandfather? He smiles
Form: Canzone


Can't biff the Pontiff

Dope boundary rope tropes…fans hopes..Ollie copes..thick skin…will find the strength within…ignores the din…as Pope unleashes that boyish grin..

Can hear Freddie and David…ddddd..Under Pressure…well..hard to measure the pleasure of the Pope’s treasure…papacy legacy pride..stops the slide..trumps the prodigy..got a ton to shun outgun..dumps the Bethell puns..rested and bested..still in at stumps.. after Stokes plumps for tried and tested..

Nasty ploys from the seedier media boys…that gambit or slight..of weedier..needier skittish rabbit in the floodlight habit..but such poise..delights despite the noise.. fights the red hot slingshot Jasprit highlights...that iconic.. chronic.. metronomic…never laconic..halcyon harbinger..joy bringer..humdinger swinger gunslinger....

Who’s got a clue what to do…where it will land…understand what the Bumrah brand’s got planned…should be banned…can’t watch it from the hand..love watching it from the stand..tames games…fanned flames…big names castles manned..but the sparkle of another debacle shames and blames…panned and canned..

Doff your hat…scoff..from the off…Test cricket doesn’t get harder than that…time we beckoned..back when Goochie opined…Essex accent whined..reckoned like facing the World’s test best one end.. and tother Ilford second eleven..   

It was a story of small standing tall demanding another dance at the Bumrah ball as the diddy men zen of Ollie and Ben gave us a chance and dodged.. not bodged by the Jasprit lance

Even the boom boom cherry riff couldn’t biff the Pontiff of who we are so fond…no what if..made merry with his tintin strawberry blonde quiff in this tiff did respond..

Golly gosh the another level devil..tabloid tosh of him getting Bethell bish bash boshed…losing the race.. will never forget Ollie’s jolly face…gleaming…day dreaming yet screaming to those scheming and memeing…fury at the jury…beaming…the adored Pope ruled..his grace.. Dueled with the ultimate pace ace…an up yours…century scores…our faith restores ..Ollie.. rightly put out…brightly glowed..showed us what he’s all about..loud..proud shout to the crowd who know nowt…want him out…made it clear..peers cheers he holds dear..my best at your behest ..so sincere.. I deserve my Test place and rest my case..!  Hear Hear..
Form: Rhyme

The boon of Tunes and Comic buffoons


If you had to pick...what’s your kind of comic

Do you find you pine for slick ironic

Or get behind a line that’s quick..sardonic

Opined by design.. aligned to resigned laconic

Unkind with the mic..sick at taking the mick

Defined by sly dry wry alcoholic hyperbolic frolic

Or less refined grind.. moronic the comedic tonic


Swoon at boons of the goons or cynics picnics going manic

Ready as lampoons buffoons with an unsteady heady histrionic

Idiosyncratic…emphatic witticisms..feeling victims reeling.. erratic panic

Keen lyrical hysterical mean criticisms scene stealing whims.. talismanic


What about who croons your tunes …go slow..metronomic

Choose the muse & fuse of rhythm & blues.. free flow tectonic

More giddy Philly Delfonic than tidy Taffy Stereophonic

Or raw roaring baselines scoring plus eleven ..soaring supersonic


Soul or rock & roll heaven.. acolyte delight.. bright totemic

Atrocious Metal in ferocious fine fettle...furiously demonic 

Bespoke notes of sublime folk strokes always curiously bucolic


Pizzazz…elite razzmattaz of jazz.. seriously neat hedonic

Classical..technical feat regalia…deliriously sweet symphonic  

Dance hall & reggae.. calypso beat.. all imperiously euphoric


Quadrophenia paraphernalia or more quadrophonic

Wurlitzer chutzpah delightfully or frightfully electronic

Tip top non stop hip hop drops like Dre’s the Chronic

 
Don’t do generic…when you could do mesmeric

Wiggles or giggles.. this is a witty ditty polemic

To big up shindigs..grins at gigs..sins at jigs…guffaws & encores..stratospheric tunes & comic buffoons..scores on the doors...simply iconic!
Form: Monorhyme

Test Cricket's posthumous Lazarus


Natural talent Jimmy’s heir apparent melodious

Line & length strength swing seam harmonious

Taking over from dream team still parsimonious

But Olly could be a wally & yet seemed oblivious


Bit podgy not fit enough blips and cantankerous

Dodgy quips off the cuff guff just all a bit vacuous

Gruff flips energy dips pace slips hardly valorous 

Indolent & insolent temperament shamed odious

Thrown under a bus for Gus.. named cadaverous

Splendiferous famed career appears posthumous 


We were savaged biblical ravaged plague of OZ locus

No respite Ashes debacle fanfare did blare rancorous

Ridicule the losing & boozing puss oozing pustulous

Anger that was clanger not banger completely bogus

Riff raff suss boys were all faff & fuss and so do cuss

We see wheat from chaff all naff Bazball hocus pocus


No fight just sh*te is playing for England too onerous

To our health the blight of this plight was hazardous 

No focus Baz & Ben must choose real men the onus

ECB let them & Key get off scot free is very generous


Flowering again after long winter our towering crocus

To bring vertiginous rascal back not really scandalous

Not still languorous skill metronomic can be imperious

To harvest the county bounty for Test best ironic bonus


The big plus that Ollie actually does look like one of us

Which is why we fell for this fall guy & are still amorous

Learn did earn return for which we yearn not ludicrous

Annoint the sky high release point our humorous chorus

Astronomic wicket laden maiden from Cricket’s Lazarus
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member I Cannot Stand Poetic Forms - For Contest

I  cannot stand poetic forms
I like them less than winter storms
they force me into ancient norms
of rhyming words in angry swarms
for I was frightened by Haiku
in darkened rooms -- I cried --- boo hoo.

Then came the metronomic tick
sez I:  “what is this evil trick?”
now I must measure every rhyme
with tapping stick of metered time
I cannot…. will not, …..won’t ….I say
be forced inside the lines…..to stay.

For I shall dance….the poet’s dance
of shaggy hair….. of tattered pants
dance with those….. in tie and tails
rap with those….. released from jails
free demon words from fear’s cold cell
sing hymns resounding angels bell.

My crayons stray outside the lines
my words creation redefines
I am free to choose my words
soothing balm or cutting swords
to calm the hearts of troubled souls
as shovels digging dying’s holes.

And yet the verse is never Free
for it remains a part of me
wandering a poets hell
secrets it has yet to tell.


5/12/2016

submitted to – Get Your Dr. Seuss On – Poetry Contest
sponsor – The Seeker
Form: Verse

Purple Cat's Cataphony

A butterflied eye
blinking stars do shine 
on every beating wing
as birds softly sing
to silver maned unicorns dancing in a ring 
of dragons snapping webs of woven silk
In a swirl of clouds made of milk
a towering blue filled sky 
high diving wheels do fly
on a hundred tuxedoed marching bears
humming out sweet honeyed airs
a hammering anvil octopus with tentacles uproarious
playing a melancholy song
on harps long gone
to sea depths of whales
clicking tongues with their tails 
while dolphins do a trick to a metronomic tick.
Purple waves a thousand string bows
as I pull out a petrol coloured rose
from everybody's nose
children burst out a laughing bubble
on a policeman turning into a clown
frozen stiff with a frown
a bassoon the size of an elephant bellowing out such eloquence
with oboes and clarinets that slither and snake their way
blowing bugles into bubblets parping out little trumpelets
and saxophones rippling out dancing skeletones 
that shatter cymbals and kettle drums into smithereens
blue tongued lizards fingering their zithers
And last but not least a thousand nimble mice who play piccolos on ice
The performance now takes on a darker tone. Is that a flash of lightning?
Do ominous clouds roll in across the sky? 
A belated troop of grinning baboons
Sawing double basses
gnashing teeth and pulling faces
As I wave my wand to whistle forth a dark cloaked demon
from an infernal region
to hit grand piano keys bringing the crowd to their knees
blackened sulphuric fingers spread
Inspiring some unholy dread
as cloven hoof beasts clamour
and witches dance enamoured by yer fiery guest 
who draws out hell at yer own behest
Purple Cat rings a bell and the whole artifice fell.
© Rubi Drake  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Burlesque

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