Long Mix up Poems
Long Mix up Poems. Below are the most popular long Mix up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mix up poems by poem length and keyword.
The Mix Up
Life is opposite of what we think
Some try to find happiness at the bottom of a drink.
Others search for glory and fame
Only to discover they lived their life in vain.
Pain rises up like the setting sun
Tying up its laces its ready to run.
Searching far and searching wide
Forever looking for a place to hide.
It doesn’t just fit into any old place
It knows no figure, it takes no shape.
It crashes and beats along the seashore
Waiting for someone to take seriously its roar.
Sending out messages loud and clear
So simple and concise the wisest can’t hear.
Trying to communicate what life has surpressed
It’s hard to find words that can accurately express.
The raging inside of me sheds no light
As the brightness quickly fades to night.
So what is this confusion of that I speak
It appears to the onlooker as tired and weak.
It spreads faster than any rumor
It has absolutely no desire to try.
It’s aIways posing the question
Is it really better to die?
But listen oh so closely
Hear what it has to say
For its surely an invitation
To greet a brand new day.
This pain doesn’t come to take from you
It’s only trying to give.
The strongest realization
Of how badly you want to live.
My tongue is tied
tinted scarlet windows
that I fly through
as I let my grasp go
from the guide meant for peace.
My chances decrease,
while my dreams do the opposite.
I mix up your silence
with the screams of my hope
to be saved.
I’m depraved
from the touch I long to feel again,
with your voice and face
engraved into my desire
for a better future.
This may seem like a love poem,
but it’s a glove
that holds a situation
a situation of no conversation.
I listened to silence for a sign.
Thinking your eyes said something
your mouth only did once.
My tongue is tied
as I wave goodbye
to the figure
society calls a crush.
Prejudice dark, discernment light
So let us not mix up the two
Distinguish between black and white
Whilst we let not toxic fumes spew
The jaundiced eye is judgmental
Prejudice dark, discernment light
Let then our love be radial
Yet recognising wrong from right
Never disembark from loves flight
Vibrant thus, in stillness sedate
Prejudice dark, discernment light
Wary of thoughts that agitate
Heart aglow, fused with mind mellow
Hold still attention, with clear sight
Go with the flow, yet always know
Prejudice dark, discernment light
27-June-2021
Double checking that my keys are in my zone of proximity,
Has saved me and my family from wasted brain activity,
Except when I have had to save the day with my hunting ability,
To avoid a period of instability.
Such an occasion happened when I was working,
Finding my jacket missing one morning,
I took another jacket instead of wasting time looking,
Little knowing the mix up this would be causing.
At the end of they day on reaching for my jacket,
I found my keys missing from its pocket,
And I was soon building up a sweat,
As I was supposed to be taking my wife out for a treat.
With hope of finding my keys receding,
It was my wife I was ringing,
For the spare car keys to be bringing.
While waiting, I was slowing down my brain activity,
And reassessing my hunting strategy,
When I thought of another possibility,
Could I have 2 jackets at the same facility.
My wife arrived, just as I found the keys that were missing,
She did not find the situation at all surprising,
Her faith in my hunting ability uncompromising.
It was 7.15am on that day
I was told to wait somewhere
In front of a church instead of an eatery
A ploy to identify me without mix up
It was a church christened Power of God
The fifteen minutes of waiting
Was a like a whole long day
Her invented picture ran through my head
I must have gotten it wrong
No, I Know I got it right
The first lady I behold was with a wrapper
With a big bucket to fetch water
She smiled at me as if she is shy
“God forbid bad thing”, I chorused to myself
Another one strolled by me
She was a student with a bag
Of a average height and fair beauty
But she wasn’t looking at my way
Looking tattered, dirty and ruffled
For her, I can’t be mistaken for another
For I was the only guy there, seem stranded
I was getting impatient as I called again
“Hello, I am already there in front of the church”
“Please, I am very sorry, I am on my way”, she replied.
Alayande Stephen T.
23rd November 2007
3.01pm
On my way to Akungba –Akoko
Upon opening the fridge this morning I found, to my great displeasure, that there was nary an egg to be found. Posthaste I marched down to the corner market, grabbed a carton of fresh, free range eggs, darted smartly to be first at the checkout counter, and rifled through my wallet to see if I had ready cash or would have to employ my Visa card.
In my rush to sit down to my newspaper, sunny-side-ups and piping hot coffee, I had neglected to remove my sunglasses. This would hardly be worth mentioning if the young check out lady had not inquired, “Did you check your eyes to make sure they’re not crossed?” She grinned as if the question were perfectly proper. Was this her idea of a joke? Why, this rude, cheeky young tart was poking fun at my advanced age! The nerve! Obviously my ancient eyes couldn’t stand the daytime glare. Was that it?
I lifted my shades and squinted at her with my two evil eyes before tucking the carton under my arm and strutting back home with seething indignation.
Have I checked my eyes to make sure they’re not crossed. Good god, that’s not even a joke! But were those her actual words? I hadn’t been paying close attention, for my mind had been more on consuming the eggs than paying for them. But, no! Those were her exact words!
As I approached my door, I confess to have felt to be but the shell of the man I had been upon awakening that morning. I had to simply be a good sport and admit my days were all spent. Nothing to do but to turn on the oldies station, curl up on the sofa, and let the Reaper do his work. Did I check my eyes. My last indignity! Adios cruel world!
Entering the house, I found my friend reading a magazine and enjoying her morning coffee. “Oh Robert!” she called out.
“What now!” I snapped at her with a sinking sense of dead and doom.
“I was just wondering. Did you check your eggs to make sure they’re not crushed?”
“No”, I responded, relieved that I had mis-heard that young delightful check out lady. “I’ll do that right away!”
Iamb, Trochee, Spondee, Pyrrhic. Do those words have meaning for you? If not, you may find it handy as a poet to learn how to employ at least a few of them. They are names for the most common of the two-syllable feet used in classic poetry forms and many rhymed forms of today (there are other metrical feet used for 3 syllables). Poets can practice to become skilled at any one of them, but often poets are drawn to just a few when they write naturally. Iamb is the one that I prefer. When your words rise and fall in an unstressed to stressed rhythmic pattern, you are using iambic meter. Five feet of these unstressed-stressed syllables is called pentameter. That is why a sonnet is written in Iambic Pentameter. The traditonal sonnet writer uses ten syllables which are divided into five feet of unstressed/stressed syllables.
Here is the way Iamb looks if I show just two-syllable examples: de/TEST, un/LOVED, a/ WORD, go/ HOME. It would sound unnatural to say DEtest, UNloved, A word or GO home. The poet chooses his metrical foot and simply goes with the flow! If I choose to write a triolet, I would use Iambic Tetrameter (8 syllables with 4 feet of Iamb). When you consider all the different combinations of feet and meter, there is much to be learned! You can even mix up types of meter or use them unrhymed! To some poets it comes naturally -no textbook required. I have known free verse poets to say, "I just don't 'hear' it." But a few of those poets practiced and practiced; with time I saw them grow!
For those who want to practice poetry
in such a way to make their poems sing,
Iambic meter is one way to go.
Unstressed, then stressed creates a pleasant flow.
So give your words some musicality.
Keep practicing, and then your skills will grow.
Aug. 5, 2018
brown eyes that sparkle in the sun
inspires me to take turns i thought
i would never take
i thought surely that there must have
been some kind of mix-up in God's Master
Plan
however i never questioned or challenged
his logic, meaning, or purpose
instead i just go with it and let the unsung
art of presented discovery overtake the
homebody philosophy which was my norm
when i just let go my eyes became saucers
of surefire delight
there were times when i had to pinch myself
and wear green for personal reassurance
now i live life happily with my head in clearer
clouds
instead of searching for a temporary escape, i
now search for the second, third, fourth, fifth
take and beyond.....
To be frank;
I don't need to play prank,
For your unspoken words,
To fly to my heart's nest like birds.
To be serious;
I don't have to be hilarious,
If truly true love don't run smooth,
A mould morales that soothe.
To be candid;
You won't want to be stranded,
Before you pray my caress,
That for free I coalesce.
To be real;
You barely should plea,
When attention digress off gaze,
Your eyes' roses drive me so craze.
To be best friend;
It doesn't have to depend,
On your girlhood status,
For virginity don't determines SHE callous.
To be successful;
He needs not woman so colorful,
Rather caught amidst feelings & readiness,
For forever in spite whatever for liveliness.
To be cultured;
There is no need to place morals acquired,
On the possible retriever of mistake,
That had born enough good by its ache.
To make mix-up stop;
There is need to stoop,
Not that low,
But let him know.
We two try to walk parallel,
Our relation not marital.
Unable to walk together
but we can't walk away either .
Don’t try to judge who is better.
as oil can't mix up with water.
Happy ending is not certain.
This chance may or may not happen.
Truly, we may not get along.
Yet not to separate life long.
Necessarily we feel thrill .
No commitment but making deal.
Facing clash at every corner
Useless to know, who is winner.
When I come, she is sure to go.
Yet my ego not to forego.
If oil goes on an explosion,
Water controls situation.
Yet we can't prepare 'Solution.'
Mixing yields just an‘Emulsion.
Our action and interaction
always end in contradiction .
Whatever, we cannot break up !
Somehow we are bound to tie up.