Long Named Poems
Long Named Poems. Below are the most popular long Named by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Named poems by poem length and keyword.
I learnt to swim at ten
But was afraid of attempting a dive from height
Stayed in den!
I must be bold
I vowed to dive no matter plight
Why hold?
One day then
Took the three metre flight
Yen!
I learnt to swim at ten
I vowed to dive no matter plight
Yen!
Another example of MINICHU form
to encourage Soupers to attempt and participate in the contest as it is not that difficult.
2.8.2020
Note:
1. This is a New form of Rhyme named MlNICHU (proposed by me)
2. Total12 lines (4 stanzas of 3 lines each)
3. Rhyme scheme: Aba, cBc, dbD, ABD.
4. 4th stanza consists of repeat of 1st line of stanza1, 2nd line of stanza 2, and 3rd line of stanza 3.
Poem should stick to a chosen theme through all stanzas. A twist can be introduced in third stanza, if required by the theme, to make it more interesting.
5. Syllable count :
Stanza 1: 6,12,3 (3 times 2,4,1)
Stanza 2: 4,8,2 ( 2 times 2,4,1)
Stanza 3: 2,4,1
Stanza 4: 6,8,1.
She was a hearty lady
Who sailed the silent seas
Born to drift across the deep
Always alive with sails set to brave
The stormiest waters
The sapphire sprays that wet her sails
And promised to dispel all dread
From Blackbeard’s plans
She was strong and sailed
On waves both tumultuous and rough
Abiding her time in the depths
Of a sea alive with fresh dreams
And feelings of courage and extreme
Anguish felt by the broken seafarers
Blackbeard would take all his trophies
With this beauty named Queen Anne’s Revenge
Giving into the forces of a nature packed
With absolute evil it would seem
In the heart of Blackbeard, there would be
No remorse or regret
Only the assurance that he was
Felonious on the high seas
A wicked villain who only knew
The way of the lawless
A pirate notorious for his ways
A Noteworthy Ship Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
October 17, 2021
My dear Siblings,
I voted for Hillary.
I would have preferred Bernie,
but she agreed to much of his platform-especially universal health care and education and seemed to be cognizant of environmental/climate change issues and bonus--she's a woman!
How I feel now? I am still haunted by the sound of my millennial son as he stood in the shower the morning after the election,
sobbing,
grief stricken,
mourning the loss of freedom and safety for many of his friends of different races,
nationalities,
sexual identities
and religions.
I am both immensely proud of him and fear for him
when I remember him coming out of the bathroom after that gut wrenching and utterly hopeless outpouring of tears.
He wore the look of a young man going off to war
and declared his allegiance and his personal protection to all those now named targets of hatred.
I'm not sure that I would have the courage to be a millennial now.
I recently watched about 20 snapping turtle hatchlings emerge, one by one, from a small hole in the sand bank above the pond and embark on a hilarious topsy-turvey tumble down the embankment and disappear into the dark stillness under the lush green vegetation of the shallow water.
Along the way some of them appeared to die.
At one point, the lifeless forms were starting to pile up near the exit hole of the nest and I feared for those still waiting for their turn to feel the sunlight on their faces.
What amazed me was to see how these little creatures responded to each other.
One would walk right over the top or lightly brush up against the side of an apparently dead sibling
and suddenly they were moving along together.
I imagined one saying to the other,
"Come on. You can do it. Don't stop now."
or maybe "I'll race you",
like I used to say to Jeremy when I wanted him to move faster.
I was relieved and very satisfied when the last one slipped into the pond;
a proud midwife.
I can only hope that the extreme disregard for the Earth and all her creatures,
including human beings,
that is spewing out of our political system and corporations
will incite all of us to a new way of being;
to getting everybody to the pond.
Lovingly,
Kerry
“The Big Blues and Baptismal Alice”
In the land of the dirty politician
Steely resolve was borne bidding
farewell to thinly veiled conceit and division
that particular brand of milk had long in the tooth turned sour
in her red-hot mamma kitchen
A racing Greyhound on the Going Nowhere Road
forever chasing the White Rabbit named Godot
counts time from its pocketful of ticking time bomb clocks
watching Pterodactyl hormones fly in formation
eating low lying ducks in a row
while the young Velociraptor sitting in her room drawing blood viper tongue fast,
has gone all Poe
The Greyhound turns tales around
and heads back towards Emerald City
flying fast away from a plague of Bubonic Black Crows
She says adieu to those dealing cards that were never real pretty
sitting at the Tea Party Table pulling Voodoo dreams
out of the Lyrebird’s duplicity
Departure
New journey
Two tokens
One kept aside for the Love
that’s steadfast and outspoken
the other for Bee Queen standing stellar
left-field not broken
The Buzzer claims the Chance Card
and moves way out past “GO”,
The Usurper Spell is now fully broken and blown
There on the open road destiny is cumulus now known
Face turned towards Big Blue Sky and Sunshine
a new life tapestry is sewn
Mystery mist whispering over Mountains of Blue
where angels set secret prayers
on the wings of swans who only speak home truth
soaring high upon Heaven’s stairs
singing loud and clear
new dreams do bloom
through cool clean white cotton clouds
face to the sun
feet on the ground
a new day has arrived
strong magic is found
Black ink words swallowed
charcoal spits out a burnt offering
through bitterful and twisted blisters
A New journey forward -
Home is calling her to the
Forest of the Three Sisters
There ensconced in her bucolic benevolent black heath of a palace
Born again in the Big Blues sings the bushfire burning in Baptismal Alice
(Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018)
"She's Leaving Home" / The Beatles
https://youtu.be/VaBPY78D88g
"Sky Above the Clouds", Georgia O'Keeffe 1962
Influences of Magritte, Bosch
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_(chess)
I've got a Bobble Head Buddha
That nods on the dash
Some guy named Gideon
Whose Bible rides in the back
Rainbow covered Rosary beads
Hang from my mirror with ease
I've got all the bases covered
As pretty as you please
Have my cassette of Hindu chants
Where I hum along
Shaved my head for Hare Krishna
In case I get it wrong
Holy water in my reservoir
So when my windshield wipers wipe
I have that added protection
Never knowing what might
A Yarmulke from a Bar Mitzvah
In the seat next to me
With a case of Watchtower in the floorboard
I pass out for free
No cigarettes or coffee
Like a good Latter Day Saint
In case Jesus comes back a third time
Who's to say that he ain't
With all my bases covered
I feel pretty safe
Guess I can now crank the engine
And start out my day
I'm a firm believer in Jesus Christ (who's only come once but will return) and his saving grace.
I just watch some people these days bounce around from whatever religion makes them feel good and this little ditty came to mind. Each of us have a hole in our hearts only the true God can fill. If you're not satisfied with where you're at, that right there is the problem. Don't rely on man to tell you who God is...let God do that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There once was a crazy squirrel named Charlie
Whose furry paws were unusually teensy-weensy
With his chainsaw well-greased and quite small
(Can you believe it? It was just two inches tall!)
With it, he secretly carved pumpkins with great savvy.
His masterpiece? An orange, gourd-grinning fright!
With bat-wings, witches, and such for Halloween night.
The owl, most perplexed, said "That pumpkin’s absurd!"
Charlie snarled, "I’m an artist. Haven't you heard?”
Creativity and power tools make my jack-o'-lanterns outta sight!”
Talked to my recruiter
Felt it was my duty sir
Raised my hand said yes I can
Be a great American
Sent me off to boot camp
Sargent treated me like crap
Never got to thank his Mom
The one who raised this hellish son
Made me a man sent me to war
Not knowing what I'm fighting for
Traveled to Afghanistan
To kill some guy named Taliban
Now I'm hunkered in a ditch
Missing Momma's fish and grits
Planes are flying over head
Pretty soon we'll all be dead
All it is that I can say
I'm to young and dumb to die this way
Then I got a good report
They have no need for me no more
Landing on the tarmac
Hello America it's me I'm back
Greeted by my two best friends
Nodding Bob and Stutter Jim
Even got my old job back
Who would have ever thought of that
Still in service to my country
Behind the counter at Burger King
All I have to say in close
Would you like some fries with those...
Once, a little Spanish girl
was given a "regalo" -
a dainty little potted plant,
a purple-petaled mallow.
She set it in a sunny spot,
beneath a southern window,
re-housed it in an iron pot
and named it, "Don Galindo".
She gave it water every day,
and gave its loam a hoeing.
She talked to it and petted it,
and marveled at its growing.
Her plant rose tall and strong and fine,
rewarding all her labors:
"¡Te quiero!" sighed the little girl:
"¡Que raro!" cried the neighbors.
Joy never lasts, grief always comes,
said someone (maybe Byron?)
Galindo's roaming, ravenous roots
were hemmed-in by the iron.
The fine plant sickened and declined,
all hopes of salvage scuppered:
its lower parts, by steel confined,
could not sustain the upper.
And so, the moral of our tale -
resisting is not giving.
Do not preclude, prevent, prevail -
rigidity's all very well,
but soon turns heaven into hell!
Give in to me -
set us both free -
don't cramp or crowd -
things disallowed
can hardly go on living.
Robert Browning and Me (1)
Imagine me in nineteen ninety-two,
in need of something to ignite the flame:
the London Independent – a review!
The painter Gentileschi – striking name!
(American professor’s brand-new book,
describing how the Roman girl was raped,
and how this trauma subsequently shaped
her art) – I didn’t need a second look!
Now, Robert Browning. Never was a man
more like myself (though, naturally, I’m
not fit to shine his shoes). Rodin? Cezanne?
They don’t come close. More sweetly than our rhyme,
his spoke, in smiles, of clods and cognoscenti:
he taunted human frailty lovingly,
embracing our shortcomings. Italy!
We both adored the art, the grace, the “gente”.
What Browning did (so may we all rejoice!)
is take a person (Lippo Lippi, Pippa)
and let him tell it in his own sweet voice,
as if upon the stage – what could be snipper?
The beauty of Dramatic Monologues
(for thus he named them) is, the subject speaks
to put the best face on it, but out leaks,
despite his caution, stuff that’s fit for dogs.
In the beginning when the Godhead decided a new race to create,
He made Adam and Eve and gave them the ability to procreate.
With God as Creator and Adam as father,
Eve was destined the nations of the world to mother.
The serpent so subtle and cunning caused Eve to sin,
And in that very moment the consequence of dying did begin,
As punishment God said Adam’s life would be toilful,
And the process of childbirth for Eve would be painful.
Eve was so elated when she gave birth to her firstborn son Cain,
But little did she know that he would be the cause of much pain.
Soon after she birthed her second son named Abel,
He God’s command did obey, but against God Cain did rebel.
When God refused his offering, he let anger boil up in his head,
And when it was all over his brother Abel was dead,
Even as his birth brought joy to his mother Eve,
His violence against his brother caused her heart to grieve
Though our mothers the perfection of Eve do not possess,
We their children throughout our lives must confess,
They surely inherited all her maternal qualities,
As evidenced by our mothers’ numerous abilities.
They carry us for nine months often in great discomfort,
Then have to endure the physical torture of childbirth,
After we are born a lifetime nurture and caring commences,
Often in the face of numerous obstacles and sundry offences.
The roles mothers perform are too many to number,
Nurse, wife, chef, chauffeur, broken heart mender,
Psychologist, teacher, activist, referee, entertainer, nutritionist,
Alchemist, gardener, homemaker, law enforcer and home economist.
When God the family did establish and roles for its members did assign,
A special role for mothers he did wisely design,
This multifaceted role which required such skill could be filled by none other,
Than the indefatigable, amazing person we simply call mother.
So, on this day devoted to the honor of mothers,
We pay tribute to the ones who spend their lives caring for others,
Whether they are alive or dead,
We will never let the memory of them fade from our head.