Long Multi Poems
Long Multi Poems. Below are the most popular long Multi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Multi poems by poem length and keyword.
yours truly of course trolling, try
ying to stay afloat sigh
ying with forlorn resignation
as the air supply
precipitously abba salute lee
decreased, thru challenge
hang IP course
to bridge (yar
suspended animus) bee
tween das father,
and first born daughter,
this papa analogously stranded
amidst the imagined
raging river Kwai
clinging stubby phalanges
pinned tingled, pinched,
numbed gnarled slip
eerily gripping, clinging,
and aching fingerhut toes
did severely cramp
'pon glacial parental frieze,
plus notepad kept
in shirt pocket
ocean spray got damp
fortunately, these digitized
with binary stamp
portfolio of poems
didst dry by lamp
light, nsync with external
hard drive secured
multi media stored data
from this scamp
purring adventurer of amp
pull lat hood,
the high seas across
world wide web, I did tramp.
To be honest, I’ve been dreaming for way too long
There are times when life was like a typical love song
You tear down the walls between us in a blink of an eye
You really helped me out without a doubt, I cannot deny
Swallow your pride…
You have nowhere to hide
You know that you’ve hurt me
Don’t deny it – please don’t, baby
I won’t neglect you – you know that
I need the strength to move on from here
Please promise me not to use me like a doormat
I won’t shed a tear for you, for I shall not fear
You’re my sunshine
I wish you were mine
I don’t mind you here with me
As long as we are truly set free
I can’t explain what you do to me
It makes me feel mighty and shameless as can be
You walked away
You faded into gray
What are you willing to do?
Put Band-Aids on the wounds that are left unhealed? Don’t leave me alone in my solitary field…
What’s it with me and you?
We get along so well, and then we argue again – some conversations should be left concealed…
There’s something wrong with you
At least I’m humble and feeling less blue
Don’t kiss me goodbye just yet
It’s like we’ve barely met…
Constantly, feeling this regret…
I can’t – no I can’t shake it off tonight
I’m trying to break off the horrifying fight
Swallow your pride and be by my side
I’ve tried to enjoy the ride…but I cried…
Set me free from the chains of mere oblivion
My poor head is spinning around – everything’s a blur
You peeled me like a multi-layered onion
The moment you left me behind, my heart sunk under
When I was young my mom, like most women, donned a hat when she went out.
Dad said it added to her beauty…of this I had no doubt.
My mom had a collection of hats she stored in boxes under her bed.
So many different kinds of bonnets that sat atop her head.
Moms of today are different they go out with their heads bare
but one thing they share with Moms of the past are the many hats they wear.
If we tried to count the hats they don...we couldn’t...they go on indefinitely
Perhaps one way to approach it...is alphabetically.
Moms are:
Accountants
Babysitters
Chauffeurs...they do what
Doctors and
Electricians do…they are
Farmers
Governors
Housekeepers, and
Ice cream makers too…they are
Janitors
Kitchen and
Laundry workers, and
Maids who clean the floor…they are
Nurses
Optometrists,
Painters
Quality control inspectors and furthermore they are
Receptionists
Seamstresses and
Teachers…they can
Upholster that sofa or that chair…they are
Valets
Washroom Attendants and
X-Ray technicians…ready anytime and anywhere…they are
Yard managers and every Mom I know is also a keeper of the
Zoo
That’s 26 different hats they wear…
26 different jobs that all Moms do.
Moms are the original and still the best multi-taskers the world has ever met.
In fact, I didn’t run out of hats for them...I ran out of alphabet!
I guess it’s a good thing each job doesn’t have a hat that sits atop Moms head
for there wouldn’t be enough room to store the boxes under their beds.
They are visionaries, they are cheerleaders, so much of our existence they adorn
yet they had no experience as a mother until the day when we were born.
Because it was at that miraculous moment, despite their fearfulness and qualms
when they smiled as they looked at us and realized……’I’m a Mom.’
For that is the hat that encompasses the rest...the hat we call motherhood
and I must admit, from where I stand
Moms…you make that hat look good.
So Moms, here’s to a wonderful Mother’s Day as this poem bids you all adieu
For all the many hats you wear…
our hats are off to you.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
Learned a new word today,
it was 'drow'
- a dark-haired, white skinned elf
often seen leaving a video game
to haunt real woods.
This is a strange multi-layered world,
what we imagine, form from our minds
and name, that becomes real
here or somewhere else.
Those beings we bring forth from our fiction,
those imagined beings
imagine us into reality also.
The mind makes heaven or hell,
what we believe most
becomes our reality
here or
in the after earth life experience.
Imagination is Creation.
"Ye Are Gods."
O and yes, 'drow' spelled backwards
spells 'Word.'
Isn't that what God spoke in the beginning
when His Mind created all things?
Walk along the leafy paths dappled with shade
turn over a rock or two and watch the scurrying
as little insects scatter looking for some covering
finding it underneath some sticks and a grass blade
Sit quietly and just listen to the song birds singing
with music and beauty they fill the forest glade
then walk down to the gurgling stream and wade
cooling feet in its crystal water with lots of splashing
Turn over the leaf of a fern and see the spores clinging
watch the leaves waving in the breeze as they are frayed
then some red deer fawns bucked, frolicked and played
not seeming to care who was there, jumping and springing
Squirrels chattering angrily as they send nuts down in a cascade
bombarding all who pass by, they seem to lie, hidden and waiting
to catch unsuspecting walkers as they explore without disturbing
taking care to preserve the wafts of bluebells and deadly nightshade
Wandering onwards seeing the silky cocoon of a future butterfly cacheted
and mushroom rings surround the tall trees mystical and captivating
some plain, many with multi-coloured spots in sunshine glittering
old oak trees stand in splendour with leafs of emerald, turquoise and jade
Arriving at the banks of the lake surrounded by the forest glade
this place of mystery and tranquillity, no need of further searching
all one could ask for, spread out in glorious array that is so fitting
walking home I am content that into the magical forest today I strayed
written 03/13/2014
contest: The Magical Forest
ROBOTIC ART
A multi-dimensional
portrait
by artificial
intelligence
a algorithm
of
eyes &
memory
in digital
formations
layered &
scaled
to converse
&celebrate
&to acknowledge
the
extraordinary
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our skins,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright sky light.
My son
who cannot walk
nor speak his name
talks vociferously forth and with
and adding as this morning breeze
together part of Her embrace,
playful tickles
across his advocating happy Yanging face
teaching out and taking in, as possible
what and whom is impossible
for any of us to see,
whether blind as he
or sighted as we
might actually hope to be.
D is an avid scooting son
toward virgin forest greetings,
able to smell and feel morning seasons and rhythms
of days and night,
dark and persuasively gusty bright
flow of solar and lunar breezes
across our democratic EarthBound skins,
nurturing solidarity
older than concrete avenues toward cities
of overwhelming unforesting,
unraveling
tribes producing what once was nutrition,
good food more than fake food,
healthy love of gusty bright mornings
over toxic repressed-yin darks,
nightmares of climate acclimation
to separating multi-sensory linguistic pathologies.
D's life is liturgy of love
blemished only by occasional aversions to entrapment
and suffering alone
when we might become possible
to produce healthier webs of cooperative nurture
together,
Dad and D
as We.
Daranyani D,
celebrating sacred forest winds
as feminine matriarchal principles
gracing his brown naked skin.
Diversity of days and holonic nightdreams,
democratic nutritional pluralism,
principles of forest reweaving civilizations
older than cities
surrounded by fading cultures of wealth
through deforesting this EarthTribe Morning
which,
on its very best warm gusty day,
has become worthy
of concelebrating Daranyani D's
forest optimizing breezes,
liturgies of EarthTribe's
Secular Out and Sacred In
brightest elder
matriarchally principled
(0)Soul bilateral sacred brain-dance,
Elder RightBrain
Still-PolyCulturating Light-RainDance
Choreographies Sacred (0)Sum EcoPolitical
BiCameral Green-Dominant.
Just like his preachy, but basically happy, ElderDad
co-eco incarnating
our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our naked wrongs and rights,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright returning sky light.
When Autumn comes, she saunters in.
paints asters blue and streaks the skies
magenta! When chill winds begin
to susurrate, we hear her sighs.
Wearing multi-colored dresses,
when Autumn comes, she saunters in,
capriciously shakes her tresses
and with bright leaves then loves to spin.
Cavorting with the clouds within
the summer-ending skies of blue,
when Autumn comes, she saunters in.
But soon the woodlands she glides through.
Not long will Autumn stay too calm.
October sees strange pumpkins grin -
not like her onset days of balm.
When Autumn comes, she saunters in.
11/21/16
As far as I can see
Mindlessly
Been battling with sobriety
Extreme weather advisories
Over land or by the seas
Many multi-floored wineries
Producing product of the same or different varieties
Animals and humans living within or outside of societies
Where things may happen fairly or unjustifiably
World renowned notoriety
Obtained solo or through a dynasty
In all entirety
A world full of opportunity and vibrancy
All though there is irony
Happening loudly or quietly
Individuals and groups continuing to act defiantly
Showing their own true colors, undeniably
Never did I have much piety
Because it was religious, and something I always looked at undesirably
Is the cycle entirely
Spirally?
Or finitely?
Still to this day occurs piracy
And illegal sales of guns, drugs and objects like ivory
Corruption and briberies
Events carried out publicly or silently
Something well known, now viewed unrecognizably
And indefinably
By: Dalton Ogletree
Have you seen,
or even felt,
an historical coincidence
between monotheism
and patriarchal theism
and competitive ChosenPeople
monoculturing control issues?
Have you heard
resonant compassioned languages
polyculturing herstoric redevelopment,
ego/polytheistic
nondualistic integral multi-regenerational experience
in-between cooperative ecomatriarchal green theists
and competitive multicultural EarthTribe Circles
thrivalist Ecological Interdependent Spirals
co-empowering multigenerational ReCycles
within co-operative
ego/eco-empowering
Left/Right-Economic Winging
singing bicameral
enlightening secular/sacred bipartisan
co-governance
And Win/Win co-investment
in sublimely divinely competitive
yet playful teams
and tribes
and local community opportunities
to avoid win/lose survivalist
patristic devolutionary risks
By embracing win/win thrivalist
ecofeminist revolutionary opportunities
to polyculturally embrace compassion
when we are at high pandemic
rabid fear and anger frisk.