Long Notion Poems
Long Notion Poems. Below are the most popular long Notion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Notion poems by poem length and keyword.
So this, my cat, my confidante, my friend
His bed, empty now, I cannot discard
A photograph now on the mantel’s end
Beside his toy and a sympathy card
How long the wait, in this vast empty space
Till small sounds spare me the notion he’s back
Yet still shall I ready this special place
For friend and casket and polished brass plaque
You say he’s only a cat and he's dead
Still I make space midst old friends on this shelf
What notions strange and cold dwell in your head
When you have no love but that for yourself
Make light of my grieving if that you must
My cat I loved: As for you… not too fussed!
The nit-wit and the nincompoop
cordially bowed on the concert hall stoop.
Greeting the doorman, quite gaily
who nodded back, though more grayly.
And nobody dared to complain or bemoan
that fools were ruling the cobblestone
streets, where urchins peddled faux-wares
beneath the stoop, out in the square.
And the nit-wit offered a hearty wave,
but clearly knew not how to behave
While the nincompoop seemed a tad more at ease,
his pants were quite low and his crack in the breeze.
And nobody wanted to ask or inquire
whether they should pooh-pooh or if they should admire
buffoons, so clueless, off-putting and addled
for climbing the stairs in their outfits all raddled.
Yet, there they stood with their tickets in hand
eager to root for the symphonic band
as though it were some highfalutin sport
of which they knew nothing, but they would not abort
the notion that they have a place 'bove the masses
or anywhere other than out on their...well, you know.
10/27/16
Get rid of that false notion that life
only makes us taste bitterness,
and that only through unwanted pain...
we learn another memorable lesson,
to better understand the purpose of being alive!
Scream, complain and fight the cruelest enemy,
nothing will be changed by manifesting animosity:
be positive and you'll get to look over the other side,
to start your search for serenity!
And the very disappointed ones know that
chasing lovely rainbows can become unpleasant dreams
washed away by many sudden and unexpected storms;
are you one of those being easily deluded and thrown aside!
And is fate altered by a wrong choice or desire,
sometimes making us wait just to savor a tasteless sweetness,
to deride of our naiveness and lack of pure faith;
where are the ardent aspirations we seldom acquire?
If trees are nurtured by constant sunlight to bear good fruit,
don't they also need rain to make them grow and wind to make them multiply?
An important source for growth is the knowledge for truth
and a belief to surpass all uncertainties: that we're made to live, not to die!
Have you considered to bathe yourself in holiness and begin your search for serenity,
when everything else fails, firmly believe that faith can defeat death and evil;
so detestable they would be, if the earthly eyes weren't sinful
"... and the Indian Sang, but we heard no song?..."
What have we done that could have been so wrong?
Good intention paves a wave but
Knots a great notion which we enslave.
What can we do asked the red and white shoe
"...Let them loose, they belong to the Blue..."
Oceans are aware that we are here
Holding captive what they consider dear
Precious voice comes from the deep
Speaking songs while we're in our sleep
"... you think you understand..."
Orca sang in the distant lands
Poor puss of a man...
Purpose came from desert sands
It really is, out of our hands!
.
Don't we get it?
"... we don't own this place..."
.
entry. 1248
Form:
The stream surges in turbulent torrent
the dry tree felled by the summer storm,
the truncated trunk anchors at the tilted levee,
in the web of boulders it sticks, stranded.
The flood slackens the grip of the slope,
the log begins a new journey
to the remote end the stream ordains,
the abandoned attachment it forgets, dislocated.
My life uprooted by the squall of strife,
drifts like the log, finds no holding ledge,
seeks to find the free course to the ultimate,
the notion of bonding I don’t sense, unpossessed.
The tide of time takes me to the strange shore,
in the alien mooring I linger awhile,
where people see me as a vagrant driftwood,
an artifact of frozen mind, fossilized.
______________
March 10, 2023
For Brian Strand Premier No 1196 Contest
The Protraction of the Epiphany
Complacency in a stilted light of regret
Vagrancy in a jilted sight of neglect
Emergency in a wilted light of insects
The urgency of a curative substance to inject
Wellsprings of artificial truth and humour
Hells things accumulate with the modern day consumer
A year in the jungle with the rare black Asian Pumas
A fear and a rumble of a growing brain tumour
Excerpts of illumination beaming out through a crowd
Concerts of contamination leaning forward and loud
An old hearse of consecration screaming lines of the Proud
A written verse of invitation about what is sworn and vowed
Desert storms inland from the sea
Crescent forms of moonlight that shine down upon me
Elegant storms of starlight that are too bright to even see
Decadent norms shed for what’s right as you embolden the free
Elevated insights into the passages of time
Nominated fights about the ravages of crime
Consecrated rights about the rhythm of a rhyme
Ill-created sights as we look to the night for a sign
Refine the moment before you descend from your throne
Define who owns it as humanity leaves you alone
Confine who clones it before it hijacks all of your homes
Incline to hone it before the Queen turns to stone
Perpetuate the intimate and sign up for the next sequel
Commiserate the consulate before human rights become the prequel
Eviscerate then integrate as you shout about it from the steeple
Amalgamate then consecrate the water for the people
Divide the notion of partial responsibility
Inside the ocean of martial comparability
Apply the lotion of spatial inter generational exclusivity
Collide the sojourns of musical improvisational proclivity
Allow your sorrow to rise up and purge from your system
Now you follow the size of your urge to demystify him
How tomorrow through the eyes of your words make you thin
Bow to the borrowed lies of the absurd man with a grin
What comprises the ultimate act of integrity?
Hot suprises to formulate the exacts of berevity
Not decided to promulgate the contraction of longevity
Of the insiders I consummate the protraction of the epiphany
The End Copywrite Elizabeth Moroz
Can't understand how Covid
Has taken over our lives
Started in Wuhan, China
But some say it's a disguise
To eradicate a population
That the undertones defines
As the count is rising
So does the bogus cries
Some say it's a man made disease
Caused by G5 transmitters
But the fast increases
And mounting funeral pyres
With the tally on the rise
Gives me the jitters
Some say its the future
Some say it's liberty denied
Because in a life and death situation
The government controls our lives
Not with rules and regulations
We have to give up freedom
Before the whole population dies
Some say its a curse for failure
Others , there is no explanation
Even hidden from the wise
But we keep playing with nature
When it avenges in abundance
The whole world cries
It gives us the notion
That these are perilous times
With no end to the commotion
To find a cure
We are faced with the daily tally
And an increase on the score
The old bear the brunt
Of that we can't deny
But the young has no exemption
When you hear parents cry
But what of the un-recorded
When they are certified
In the absence of an autopsy
From which we can rely
Giving some certainty
To verify the eye
We were talking about climate change
Before Covid hit the scene
Now wiped from the front pages of dailys
As Covid, reigns supreme.
Constance was a hoarder.
Her life was out of order.
She lived in a mess
I must confess
I would not like to be a boarder.
Nobody could walk in the door,
Excrement and junk covered the floor,
She could not throw anything away,
She collected more rubbish each day,
Items she had no use for.
Constance fed the cat, dog and the rabbit,
Who all had disgusting habits
Which made the house smell
And it was a living hell,
For her neighbour, Mrs Crabbit.
There was no room to move in the house
Even the rats and flies, and mouse
Found it a squeeze
Made them all sneeze
Even the parrot had a louse.
Poor Constance had a compulsion,
She had a disorder and didn't have a notion,
How strange this would be
For you and me
When we showed our revulsion.
What a dreadful affliction
A hard-to-understand addiction
They need to change
But it's challenging to rearrange
And go in another direction.
Crimson longings of Spring were cast on our ocean
Taking flight from the depths of Spring’s surging seas
As bridges we formed seeking love and devotion
We were under the spell of love’s potent potion
Focusing on each other’s wants and needs
Crimson longings of Spring were cast on our ocean
Love’s shine never dulled by life’s daily commotion
Our love thus strengthened by varied degrees
As bridges we formed seeking love and devotion
We remember those days in detailed slow motion
Love’s strong emotions bringing us to our knees
Crimson longings of Spring we cast on our ocean
Neither of us leaving was ever a notion
Our thoughts back then were each other to please
As bridges we formed seeking love and devotion
Growing old together enhances emotion
No regrets or mistakes for either to appease
Crimson longings of Spring were cast on our ocean
As bridges we formed seeking love and devotion
You can blame me for the wars
And eclipse me for the nation
Close before me gates and doors
To prevent contamination
You can treat me like a fool
Talk to me like I’m a child
Who had listened to a mule
Born and bred in land of wild
Where they never read a bible
Maybe never use a fork
Round the fire they dance tribal
Dances, looking folly dork
Their existence is illegal
Their warships cross the ocean
They are threatening the bald eagle
Poor bird sends warning notion
None of the above relates
To myself, and likes of me
Who are facing the same fate
Waiting for the blind to see
But as every pavement needs
Its own stubborn dandelion
I’m with decorative weeds
In the world of deadly iron.