Long Modern day Poems
Long Modern day Poems. Below are the most popular long Modern day by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Modern day poems by poem length and keyword.
Plop, plop, plop.
The white light of the window's
Modern-day tavern shone
On the writer's keys
as the raindrops plopped atop
The wooden barrels outside.
His mind both racked and vacant
Body-dragged and summarily questioned
Twixt miles and miles of driving to connect
The dots as the mind, the mind, the mind...
Mutters, mumbles, and mucks through the hours
Like a muddied pigeon struggling to spread its wings
As small concentric circles grow outward on the writer's
Cold wet barrel outside in the inclement Seattle spring spritz...
So you have a break.
So you have time to rest.
So why complain?
Look at all this mental health bliss.
Why fuss and moan and
Stress and with such duress?
There's a way to find the calm in the chaos.
Just go away, get away, though check your emails.
The kids have the flu, go take your break.
It's walking pneumonia, where's your harmonica?
Let's sing the blues.
The songs of our lives.
The tears of all the angels.
Human tears taste better.
An eye for an eye
A hambone for a hambone
Who called the vegetarian?
Fooled you that's a pescatarian.
This poem is a train,
That never found the rails.
And that's okay
When excavating
The soul of the soul,
The eye of the eye,
The plop of the plop
From the Beer Barrel Bop.
I am the raindrop.
And even the barrel.
Plop, plop, plop.
Four score, nothing there
Ukraine lost the Roman hosted sporting affair
Back in London Boris raises a Saturday pint
Proclaiming success on this summer’s night
Soon the red, white boys will be coming home
Right now, Wembly is dark and alone
Waiting for Tuesday’s Spanish Inquisition
Italy goalers planning their position
But as for the Danes
Wednesday is their game
A fairy tale
Against the old guard writing the daily mail
No reason to complain
Dickens and Anderson will be talked about noting societal fame
UK will put up their best
Defending a modern-day stadium nest
While those from Denmark
Will be able to hark
Under the lights in the evening’s dark
Hollering Christian ‘we love you’
While turning Nordic Leif on Erikson too
A protagonist inside the sports book pages
Hero to those counting wages
British need to hold serve
To get what they deserve
A trip to the Championship round
And a trophy worthy of a couple pounds
Giving to the victor who wins it all
Competing in UEFA European futbol
Sometimes I like to go walking
In search of a quiet place
To free myself for a little while
From the entanglements of this race.
Occasionally, I find myself, running
In circles of modern-day-dreams;
Making ends meet in the fields or the streets
Is indubitably more difficult than it seems.
On the surface so simple and easy:
Do your duty and follow the crowd;
Be there on time and eventually you’ll find
Success, if you’re lucky somehow. Sometimes
I like to go walking
In search of a quiet place
Where trees grow high way up to the sky
And the winds pass gentle on my face. Still looking
Towards the illusively fading horizon ahead
Outward bound beauty beyond
Imagination’s Siren call I’m led.
Into the streets past cars and buses
Towards rivers wide with railroad trusses. Crossing over
Shore to shoreline, present to past,
Today, tomorrow, slow to fast. Following
That still small voice within, sometimes
I like to go walking now and then.
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And I've lost my little old mind
Been cruising along then all of a sudden
Wham! You came up from behind
Behind the great walls of secrecy
Lost my ability to observe
Like how our lives had gotten along
Since life threw us both a curve
We drifted apart without knowing why
Sadly we each took different paths
It matters not coz you're with me again
In spirit oh so I did yearn
To relive those days those halcyon days
Days that were free of care
I'm floating on air as I sing a love song
It's more than my heart can bare
Sadly time has changed many things
From the sweetest times I recall
But just to know that you love me still
They're the sweetest words of all
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And I've lost my little old mind
"I think there is a world market for maybe five computers."
Quote by Thomas Watson, IBM chairman, 1943
Through the QWERTY maze fingers travel afar
discover where virtual worlds are,
but a digital divide
locations denied.
Modern day
tide,
such dismay
for those left aside.
This is happening worldwide
but we must neither exclude nor bar.
Through the QWERTY maze fingers travel afar.
_____________________________________
18 January 2023
First Place, Writing Challenge - Andaree Form, sponsored by Constance La France
Checked against Syllable Counter and RhymeZone
My First Computer
By: Tom Wright
11-7-2019
My first home computer,
Was a number two lead pencil.
It’s only function,
Was as a writing utensil.
It could refresh, or delete,
and would even print.
But when applying too little pressure,
It prompted my eyes to squint.
It had sharpened graphite on one end,
And was abrasive on the other.
When it became to short,
I just asked for another.
It made its mark,
In the “Big Chief Tablet“ time.
When paper was cheap,
And computers, two for a dime.
But it faces extinction,
In our modern day.
Technology is slowly,
Driving this computer away.
Inspired by an email I received today.
Tom
He was casting lots determining the will of God
And holy times in mid Eastern Bible times
Allocating lands, determining duties, assigning guilt
Select the individuals for responsibilities
Cleromancy
Cleromancy
He was casting lots, casting lots
Cleromancy
Is it modern day man's comfort in psychology
A materialistic dependency leading him to clemency
Or is it a form and fashion of idolatry
Cast out lots let's say so humble spirits where in heart buy into something dig up evil
this we must not negative modern day cleromancy casting lots?
5/19/08
Written words by Carmen Lee Brown Lee & James Edward Lee Sr © 2008-2022
If I could breathe back life into one
Archimedes would have to be the one
And not just for fun.
Inventors to fill a need is what we need
Not ones that serve no need except greed.
Archimedes once re-acclimatised could yet fit the bill
If we give him a pill so he is not yet over the hill
His inventions though blasts from the past
Still apply to today's class.
Every time I turn a screw I think of him anew.
Filling a bath I cross his path.
Shifting a rock with a lever makes me a believer
That Archimedes could yet come back in favour.
Problem solving was his game
I am sure he could still put some current inventors to shame.
For which we are all to blame
For not telling them what we need
And letting them invent for no need.
Maybe that is why we have no modern day Archimedes,
To meet our needs.
To reinstate the original I see as the only way
If we want to save the day.
To avoid any glitch, I will steer him clear of the rich,
So they can not get first pitch.
It may not yet be too late,
If we bring him back to this date,
Our problems to relate
And ask him to invent to suit our need with all speed
To save our planet from our greed.
I have always felt a void in my heart which I try to fulfill by learning as much as I can about this world in an attempt to find my life's purpose. In 2015, it inspired me to write a novel, A Thousand Cursed Lives, a story about two souls reborn across a thousand years, and always finding each other again in different bodies with different names. The void they feel is a result of them looking for one another and can only end when they finally meet. Maybe, in real life, one of my life's purpose is to find my Bushra (in modern day, the name of the female character is "Bushra" and it means "good news " in Arabic)
So it’s settled
I will leave one page of my love story blank
a space untouched by memory
a white chapter written in pause
Not because I’ve known you
but because I believe I will
Not by face, not by name
but by the way the world will hush
when you finally arrive
olive skin warmed by sunlight,
dark hair falling like quiet thoughts,
glasses framing eyes that study the world
the way seekers study truth.
A soul drawn towards curiosity
and the soft wilderness of the human mind
someone fascinated by what it means
to be alive at all.
Come as you wish
on a quiet morning
in the stillness of a song
or in the middle of my sentence
Until then
I’ll write a poem for you each day
verses shaped by dreams
riddled with guesses
hoping they’ll fit your soul
when you wear them
Even after the ink dries
like dust after rain
And the page forgets
what it was waiting for
I will remember to wait
And when I sleep
a butterfly finds me
Its wings speak in colors
I’ve never named
It lands on my pillow
soft as breath
and I know
you’re real
Somewhere
breathing the same stars
You are far, but not a stranger
Unknown, but not unknowable
So I’ll wait, pen in hand
heart unfinished, a page always blank
for the day you write yourself in
Green grass verge
Hidden florals;
Purple and yellow
~~~~~~~~~
Seize your time
Know true love;
Dream profound
~~~~~~~~~
Style moves brisk
Change comes;
Late evening settles
~~~~~~~~~
Pathway collision
Traffic accident;
Random truth
~~~~~~~~~
Hidden agendas
Sly smiles steer;
Pungent deceit
~~~~~~~~~
Fickle fancy
Too many lies;
Calm truth shows
~~~~~~~~~
Background music
Cafe and banana cake;
Monkeys chatter
~~~~~~~~~
Gloomy light
Misty moon glow;
Wet air prelude
~~~~~~~~~
Sit and watch
Walkway messages;
Hurry confronts
~~~~~~~~~
Words let loose
Crooked cracks show;
Dementia succumbs
~~~~~~~~~
Fear procreates
Deceit sprinkles spice;
Cheesy vice talks
~~~~~~~~~
Modern day
Battle arena;
Bloody hope scars
~~~~~~~~~
Morning light
Coffee aroma;
Elusive sleep
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
12 February 2017
Singapore