Long Midi Poems
Long Midi Poems. Below are the most popular long Midi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Midi poems by poem length and keyword.
Sometimes writing poetry is my mistake,
Better to embark on a large cargo ship,
Which will take you to Tahiti or Honolulu,
Better give candy to a blue-eyed schoolgirl,
Sometimes writing poetry is my mistake,
Better to cook a chicken with lime,
Better to read the confessions of Saint Augustine
Or spend the afternoon at the movies with people,
Sometimes writing poetry is a strange mistake,
Especially never think that we have talent, genius,
Better to visit Lisbon or Patagonia,
Listen to fado with the Big Dipper.
Parfois, écrire de la poésie est une erreur,
Mieux vaut embarquer sur un grand cargo,
Qui vous conduira jusqu’à Tahiti ou Honolulu,
Mieux vaut offrir des bonbons à une écolière aux yeux bleus,
Parfois écrire de la poésie est une erreur,
Mieux vaut cuisiner un poulet au citron vert,
Mieux vaut lire les confessions de Saint Augustin
Ou passer son après-midi au cinéma avec des gens,
Parfois écrire de la poésie est une erreur bizarre,,
Surtout ne jamais penser que l’on a du talent, du génie,
Mieux vaut visiter Lisbonne ou la Patagonie,
Écouter du fado en compagnie de la Grande Ourse.
Sunday
fun day
elders
brothers
from church
they search
warm place
wide space
for folks
need jokes
chill out
burnt-out
tired knees
'neath trees
19 April 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
2nd place
Notes: A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte (French: Un dimanche après-midi à l'Île de la Grande Jatte) was painted from 1884 to 1886 and is Georges Seurat's most famous work. A leading example of pointillist technique, executed on a large canvas, it is a founding work of the neo-impressionist movement. Seurat's composition includes a number of Parisians at a park on the banks of the River Seine. It is in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago.(Credits: Wikimedia and Wikipedia).
A NOTE FROM MALCOLM
My advice is free, and time’s not billable
Try speaking French and I will soon know
Don’t claim a local or a provincial accent
It really does not sound as if heaven-sent
Nor a comment heard such as il fait beau
As the accent is always on the last syllable
As a teacher, these things do really matter
One must develop that Gallic look as well
Sometimes that simple shrug just says it all
From Southern Pyrenees up North to Gaul
Whether from Paris or le Midi, one can tell
In some regions, the vowels do sound fatter
So, let us practice the deep grunting sounds
And don’t forget all those hand gestures too
But accents can apply to letters when written
Cedillas, acute or grave never seen in Britain
Where just the plain and simple words will do
Whilst pretty perfume accents do the rounds
I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy,
write the “afternoon prelude of a faunal”,
Or "the toy box", or "Bergamasque suite", "La mer",
be a musician, a seer, and invent new music,
I would have liked to know all the images of the gardens,
I would have liked to write for clarinet, triangle
Or the piano in its case,
I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy,
write a “Scottish walk”, a “moonlight”,
Playing the piano, in a garden filled with purple lilacs,
No doubt that leaving a footprint is giving
the best in the world
I would have left for my daughter a «tribute to Haydn»
And the «children’s corner», something to dream about at night,
I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy.
(Two ducks on the sea, bring me back to reality,
They don’t need me, or Claude Debussy.
I would never be in the head of genius. )
J’aurais aimé être dans la tête de Claude Debussy,
écrire le « prélude à l’après midi d’un faune »,
Ou « la boite à joujoux », ou « suite bergamasque », « La mer »,
être musicien, voyant, et inventer une musique nouvelle,
J’aurais aimé connaître toutes les images des jardins,
J’aurais aimé écrire pour la clarinette, le triangle
Ou le piano dans son écrin,
J’aurais aimé être dans la tête de Claude Debussy,
écrire une « marche écossaise », un « clair de lune »,
Jouer du piano, dans un jardin rempli de lilas mauves,
Sans doute que laisser une empreinte, c’est donner
le meilleur au monde,
J’aurais laissé pour ma fille un « hommage à Haydn »
Et le « children’s corner », de quoi rêver la nuit,
J’aurais aimé être dans la tête de Claude Debussy
(Deux canards sur la mer, me ramènent à la réalité,
Ils n’ont pas besoin de moi, ni de Claude Debussy.
Jamais je ne serais dans la tête du génie.)
Cliff
On sea cliffs walks a breath of grace
Windswept wonder splashed on her face
Sun shadows dance around her feet,
Delight in this sandy retreat,
Green parasol, like flower blooms
Floral scents and ocean perfumes,
Flowing spice of the salty air,
Carefree breeze tugs curls in her hair.
Wind song of the sea sings in riffs
From hiding places runs up cliffs
Chases sunlight - l’apres midi –
Sea shanty chorus, whimsy free,
Ruffles chaste lace of petticoats
Playful whiffs ‘round her bonnet float
Bluffs of pink granite precipice
Sports wild poppies, crinolines crisp.
Palisade crags – coast of flowers -
Begs delight from her leisure hours
Spreads her a cape of boutons d’or,
Golden bouquet – beauty implores -
Playful cloud shadows, like sea drift,
Hug windy paths upon the cliff
Grace strolls in afternoon’s repose
Blossom of the Fleurie Coast rose.
1-25-22
Contest: C Form - Couplet
Sponsor: Constance La France
Based on Monet’s painting of Madame Monet at Trouville France. Trouville is a resort city in Normandy that is part of the Fleurie Coast – Coast of Flowers.
Your smile is three times,
The circle of the earth,
It’s sweeter than a California orange
Offered at noon twelve, outside the table,
Your smile refreshes me
As the source of sin,
He makes up a reason,
To live like a lizard
Caught by the sun,
To give answers
To all your questions,
Your eyes also circle the earth three times.
Ton sourire fait trois fois,
Le tour de la terre,
Il est plus doux qu’une orange de Californie
Offerte à midi douze, en dehors de la table,
Ton sourire me rafraichit
Comme la source d’un péché,
Il m’invente une raison,
Pour vivre comme un lézard
Attrapé par le soleil,
Pour donner des réponses
À toutes tes questions,
Ton regard aussi fait trois fois le tour de la terre.
w?rdz sp?ld k?'r?kt 'v?rs?s f?'n?t?k 'sp?l??
Ð?s na? b?'g?nz 'fib?l ?'t?mpt
tu 'r?nd?r ra?m f?r no? 'riz?n
?'p?nd?d w?ð f?'n?t?k træn'zle???n
'me?nli æz 'ple?f?l tiz z?n
s?'n?n?m?s ?'mæ??n?? 'ti???
s?d '?ks?r?sa?z tu 'ig?r '??ldr?n
ri'ma?nd?? 'rid?rz ðæt j??
ænd 'r?stl?s w?ð 'sp?ti ?'t?n??n
hir 'spo?k?n w?rd wa?l ?n 'jut?ro?,
po?st 'ne?t?l, 's?bs?kw?ntli w?n
hi/?i 'p?r?ts 'p?r?nt(?s) ænd/?r
'g?rdi?n, ? m?r d?'l?b(?)r?t j?n
?'ra?z?z tu ?'kwa??r 'gre?t?r k?g'n???n,
??ntu'???n, 'kw?s??n (kw?st j? h?n)
'kw?kli d?'v?lv?? '?ntu f?ks k?n
b?rbd 'ra??t?s 'læft?r ?'næl?g?s
'tra??? w?ts ?v 'pe???nt k?'midi?n/
k??midi'?n r?'z?rt?? kwa?t '?f?n
tu ?r?p?'t???n, remonstration,
ri??t?'re???n... w?? fr?'stre???n
ma?t n?'s?s??te?t 'te?k?? t?n,
?r so? 'm?n?ts ?v ??nt?r'm???n
'ma?ndf?l 'm?n?t?r 'pre?z?z p?n
'?lt?m?t 'v?rb?l ?'dr??t ?'b?l?ti
'?rn?? 'h?l?i trit f?r ?r?s?'te???n,
p?r'hæps r?'s?pi?nt ?k's?p??n?li
'ig?r tu ?d'væns 'pæs?? 'go?ld?n
'ma?l?sto?n 'e?b?l, 'r?di, ænd w?l l?n
tu 'tæk?l 'ra?t?? k?'r?kt 'sp?l??,
w?ns 'l?rn?? tu ho?ld p?n(cil)
(w?'?a?t 'bi?? ve?n) b?'g?n m?n
t?l 'pr??s?s, w?? n?kst st?p d?n
?'la?z, ?'ne?b?lz ænd pr?'va?dz s?n
s?t hiv hændz ?n 'ga?d?ns
'h?lp?? 'pri?skul?r - ?l 'la?v?n
ænd w?l w?ð ?n'?uzi?æz?m kl??
'ra?t?? '?mpl?m?nt 'f??g?rz 'o?p?n
b?'f?r '??ntli 'græsp?? ?'b?v r?n
'd?r?? 'kudo?s w?ð ?n e?'m?n.
One
Two
Three
Four, who are ya going fer
Two
Four
Six
Eight who ya gonna inshe-ate
Nobody the public schools, the government
Just one day U all haf-ta rep-present
Not politics just hi-Ocrets
ReachN out gleanin warfare chexs
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
GONNA STOP ME FROM
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
GONNA STOP ME FROM GITTING MY PRAISE ONZ
No devil in hell
No evil or good men
gonna stop me from gitting my praise onz
No one on earth
Can stop my worth
No scantly clothed model in a midi skirt
the antichrist will rise
You have to take the mark or die
I'll fast and pray
I'll be here on judgement day
to the glory to God and I
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
GONNA STOP ME FROM
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
GONNA STOP ME FROM GITTING MY PRAISE ONZ
No devil in hell
No evil or good men
gonna stop me from gitting my praise onz
No villages, no sins
I won't pass out they won't win
You have to take the mark or die
I'll fast and pray
I'll be here on judgement day
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
No boss on the job
No camper cutting logs
Not my government
No one can stop me yet
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
to the glory to God and I
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
GONNA STOP ME FROM
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
GONNA STOP ME FROM GITTING MY PRAISE ONZ
Nobody gonna stop me from praising His name
Written by
The Corinthian & James Edward Lee Sr.
Music by
Lafonzo Thomas & James Edward Lee Sr.