Long Models Poems
Long Models Poems. Below are the most popular long Models by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Models poems by poem length and keyword.
Grey the shadow has laid
Shoes are scattered buckles undone
Quite still the ball with which children played
In quiet corners the clocks hands don’t run
Chuckles sounded a happy day was made
Toy boxes in past times a wondrous scene
Clay models squeezed to shape in small hands
Books pens and paint brushes water soaked clean
Some glued paper with stuck coloured sands
A blackboard with chalk its white letters to be seen
The end of play bell had sound its saddening ring
Some counting was practiced at the front of the class
Some children at the piano with the teacher sing
But it isn’t the wind which rattles the glass
Outside the rain fell frozen too hail winter to bring
That grey shadow dealing death in its wake
What was the guardian doing that day
In silence and stillness bleeding fingers would rake
When so many loved ones were taken away
To listen for a voice a needed sound to make
22/9/21. Contest quintain Sicilian. Emile Pinet
Monodies on corona, like dirges, are often common
Many die, senses say, many are, like a carcass, buried
Amidst excessive ‘counts’ of ‘imported’ vaccination
Paramount time spent greatly on nationwide election
‘Masks’, ‘Distance’, they say, nothing ever practiced
'Stars' and 'Models' on ads advise petty pretty precaution
Jobless, foodless run long many a laborers’ marathon
Mothers, fathers, wives, children, kith, and kin unfed
Yet, caring, on their way, many helpless unknown brethren
‘Nation is fit financially’ ‘experts’ assure every so often
‘Rations limitless’ they say, who gets even mosses of bred?
Life becomes, for poor, martyrdom, every console gone
Rich becoming richer and poor pushed head and heart down
Normal citizens are seen, day by day, going hungry to bed
Corporatism has been becoming a common phenomenon
Prices hike like climaxes of tragedies darkness and no dawn
Slogans, as though, anthems and symphonies widespread
Every politician delivering their power-speeches well-spun
Normal natural life paralyzed as though existence bed-ridden.
On threads of wispy air,
in breathy undertones of political wind,
I can hear the quiet catastrophe,
the quiet ruination of our commonwealth.
I can hear the sleepy madness, turned avalanche
between my ears.
I can hear the quiet catastrophe,
the whispered words of terrorists,
guttural phrases taunted as political incorrectness,
flaunted vacuous nihilism fomenting insurrectionism,
the quiet convulsion of our self-rule.
I can hear the sullen invocation, turned torrent
within my mental models.
On threads of wary air,
in stealthily vengeful murmurs of pretenders,
I can hear the casual, softly spoken demise of justice,
the grim sabotage of governance by principle,
and with it,
the slow dripping blood of all those who died,
all those long forgotten.
The fading ink on parchments spelled out ideals
never attained or practiced in a nation’s history of enslavement
and genocide.
Yet can the people’s ambit even begin without the
enshrinement of these principles for all?
I can hear the quiet catastrophe,
the reckless, feckless conmen concocting hallucinogens.
Conspiracy contagions so easily playing upon, confirming
the jaundiced eyes, so easily validating the invectives of the addicted.
On threads of wispy air,
in breathy undertones of political wind,
I can hear the quiet catastrophe.
Are you listening?
In old fuzzy slippers, she makes her children's lunches
wondering and worrying if her husband has any hunches
of where she goes or what she does while he works each day
or that she spends her time thinking, "While the cat's away..."
In worn bedroom slippers, she kisses each darling cheek
a good mother is always loving. Role models should be meek
She hurries her young ones to the bus and off to school
aware of the ticking hands of the clock, but playing it cool
Doting mother, affectionate wife, in fuzzy slippered shoes
but there is another pair, the sexy ones she'll soon choose
Tucked in the closet are ones she keeps hidden, anticipating
how they make her feel, and the man who will be waiting
In black stiletto heels, she becomes quite a capricious flirt
Her husband has no clue. Oh, how much he would be hurt
if he knew of those sexy shoes and tight-fitting slinky dresses
the perfume she wears for him, the way she curls her tresses
And when the deed is done, she slinks her way back home
to bathe her secret sins away in a tub of bubbles and foam
Into those well worn slippers, she will slide her cunning feet
to welcome home her family, with a smile so sugary sweet
August 1, 2017
Two Pair of Shoes
for John Lawless
Seems like the global grid
Isn't that much ecological
Sustainability program
May not be explicitly logical
Trading of goods and the weapon
Economies systems the war
The influenced and the influencers
Effectiveness minimum bore
Smart cities that aren't so much smart
Devaluation of art
Activities list
Geopolitics
New models and new paradigms
Traffic of transport
The rhymes
Programs naive of the new architecture
Reactions, emotional
Form and the texture
Dramatical conflicts
Focus on humans
Leaders religeous
Image doom summus
Maps and the streets
Are the vessels
Infrastructures
Memories, doctrines
The political fractures
No one defines
Main the thinking of yours
But when they define
They are apt for remorse
No processing
Root wrong
Of the the origin
Fraud, obfuscation, saints and the forgery
Clock in the boxes
To measure photons
Scaling inadequacy
Tank is pion
Budgets of riccies
Positioning in time
Demands of the psyches
Virtual dime
Privacy lost
Paths ideal, naive
Opions, beliefs
Isn't real
No peace
Migrations, the trends
Isolated the fashion
Fruit isn't apple
Fruit now is passion
New phases of programs
Right to define
Whatever the limit
Of brain yours is fine
Computed solutions
That nothing do solve
But sure, neuromorphic
To what will you morph
Conductors, the contacts
The extrapolations
Reality virtual
There is no negations
The pressure of activism
Pressure of programs
There is no authority
Valuable morons
Compliance base standards
Front end of display
Life is the game
And you life this do play
What if you really
Don't qualify
For neither athlete
Nor the influencer
Sci-Fi
The simulations
And simulators
Role attributions
And interceptions
The image of Army
The system describes
Multidomain is
Domain many bias
Arms and the Joints
Commands and the combat
You reckon this Army
Is some kinda robot?
Where's Judgement
That will prevail
Over the institutes
Out on a bail
I gazed at the night sky above me watching the clouds rolling by, everything was quite around, and for the first time I had a glimpse of where destiny is bound.
There is something magnificent radiating from above, humming with the graceful heart of a dove; it is walking with boots on the ground with the eyes of eagles looking around.
I walked along the town hall with a message that is so tall listening to the musical sound, and the culture running up and down the town.
The traffic was moving in particular rhythm and the solitude of man bound up with a grin, for the first time I could see the consciousness of mankind searching for a new meaning above the highest ceiling.
I was prepared for this task that would lift the heavens out of the dark and so I embarked on another mission to the moon.
We have been working in the woods for many years, wrestling with the wind and building models to stay alive while we try to fulfill this bountiful sacrifice, our hearts are with us and the heavens is above we glide through the trees and settle with the breeze
life began to take on new meaning oh what a wonderful feeling. Wisdom propels us along and we starts to sing a New song. The timing is right so we decide to roll the dice.
A whole new world has lit up in front of me and the universe is embracing me, two hearts meet under the tree bound together in the highest degree.
We climb the heighest mountain together listening to the howling wind and the message that is embedded within. The testament of truth is wrapped up in a message spanning from our youth, two different ages, two different grades but the passion that merges our soul will never be broken when we grow old.
The cord of love ties us together and the call to duty assembles us, the mind with its multitude of thoughts rises from a pinnacle, looking for a solitude that is floating in midair.
It is strong and deep and it never dies; it draws fresh water from the ocean and fills the heart with a great devotion and somewhere between those trees you will find solitude with the wind.
If lawyers get de-barred and clergymen de-frocked
Does it naturally follow and make sense
That electricians are de-lighted and cowboys de-ranged?
Need some answers, no sitting on the fence!
Can a motorist be de-fined, a balloon's mood de-flated
This silliness surely must stop
Do dead mailmen de-liver, are old ships de-ported
Better stop before I call a burly cop
Do musicians get de-noted, dry cleaners de-pressed?
Now hold on, I'm getting quite upset
Can models be de-posed, do tree surgeons de-bark?
Haven't heard any answers as yet
Do skirts get de-pleted, has your hair been de-parted?
This must be some kind of a plot
Artists quit by de-sign, symphonies de-compose?
I think about de's things a lot!
© Jack Ellison 2013
...But then there is the second reason,
one that I think is much more malign,
one that comes from the P.C. brigades,
one that's craving control of your mind.
See families don’t vote for the left,
or they do at a much lower rate,
people with wholesome family values
are much harder to manipulate.
It’s the same reason pedophiles
target families that don’t have a dad,
they know that brings them easier pray,
no one to stop their intentions bad.
If you believe people are just clay,
as so many damn socialists do,
then the good ideas tested by time
are seen as a great hindrance to you.
If dysfunction is what makes people
look to you when they’re in need of cash,
then anything which threatens than chain
is something you must get rid of fast.
And since families with two parents
often do well enough on their own,
you’ll do anything to stop that trend,
even if it means breaking a home.
You’ll fill the airwaves with bad role-models,
then declare that you’re just ‘being real,’
you will say that everything’s okay
as long as it’s what you really feel.
You’ll declare that single motherhood
is just as good as a dad and mom,
and if anyone tries to correct
you’ll decry them as sexist and wrong.
You’ll make everything political,
and leave the people with no refuge,
you’ll turn aside all beauty and grace
to celebrate the ugly the crude.
You’ll label good people as backwards
for wanting a spouse and some children,
then you will cheerlead debauchery
so that nobody imitates them.
You won’t see society falling,
just the power you wish to achieve,
these people who badmouth wholesomeness
care not a bit if they make you bleed.
I feel it to a small extent - a little tinge of it -
those times I hear about
friends going on vacations to fun exotic places;
friends of mine receiving special presents from their husbands;
women I have known for ages getting plastic surgeries,
losing weight, and looking now like models;
Anyone who does not feel a tinge of jealousy
toward those who are receiving the very thing
one is longing for in one’s own life
I think would not be human!
But most of us can rise above the tinge of jealousy.
All of us are gifted in one way or another.
We need to have security in who we are,
and gratefulness for all the gifts uniquely ours!
Most likely, those whose good fortune we might covet
are looking back at someone else with a tinge of jealousy.
Nobody has everything they want!
We cannot know the many facets of a person’s soul -
their hidden insecurities, their dreams left unfulfilled.
Maybe there exist a few on a higher plane
with not a jot of jealousy inhabiting their heart.
Until we reach that higher plane,
We need to be as happy as we can be.
Congratulate successes of your peers.
Swallow any little bitterness and know. . .
with hard work, you can achieve successes in your life.
Imagine your dream and go for it!
That thing which is of the uttermost importance
will be the thing for which you ought to strive.
What drives you? What brings you the most joy?
Once you’ve answered those few questions,
take stock of your own life.
Are you doing all you can, despite even facing
possible hardships in your current situation?
Don’t sit back and daydream.
Force a smile if you have to.
Be happy for life’s winners.
Envision a dream that is attainable for you;
work for it, being grateful all the while
for the talents you already have.
Those with low esteem or prone to idleness and greed
will not want to do the needful things.
They will feel the tinge of jealousy; then let it fester.
Growing and growing, it will manifest itself
in acts of hideous deceit, or worse,
jealousy can lead to murder and revenge.
It happens all the time,
for it’s the root of nearly every crime!
Breathe. . . and let out jealousy.
Feeling jealous means that you are human,
but never go beyond the tinge of it!
I ponder
throw away
my ancient
machine
of writing...
Rumple
the papers,
accomplices
of mine
tare ...
I even
stop
writing...!
but how :?
the words
pass by
my head
as models
on the catwalks ...
demanding attention!
I desire on going
complete blind...
(I perceive poorly!),
not to assimilate anymore
colors, paintings ...!
but my mind
have secret files
containing
all beauties
of the world !
I stopped eating...
Never
I was hungry ...
I stopped drinking,
I saw myself free
from headquarters ...
I am further
healthy than
before...
My literally hunger
rose ...!
nor devouring
mountain ranges of ideas
going hungry
of verses ...
nor drinking
an amazon
of words,
satisfy my my
hungriness for poetry ...!