Long Notions Poems
Long Notions Poems. Below are the most popular long Notions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Notions poems by poem length and keyword.
On and on went the constant stream of
sound..
I got lost in my own musings, the second
time around.
She babbled her notions, to living things
that drank her.
They savored up everything, that she had
to offer.
I followed her down to the end of the
journey..
Laying down next to her, I enjoyed the
tranquility!
Babbling Brook was spent from her travels
of the day.
But, she kept on moving as time drifted
away.
All of the rumors of nature, were imparted
to me..
Of what was to come and what was to be.
She slowed down her stream coming
upon a nook..
Never can she really rest~for she is a
babbling brook.
Sealed within an hourglass
a shower of sand descending
scraping away my supple skin
as when one refinishes a hardwood floor
scouring off the old varnish and stain
Its grit scratching
like the claws of a cat at my corneas
already malformed before my birth
so that I was never able even as a child
to perceive the world completely clearly
everything fuzzy like a fogged mirror
and blurry about the edges
causing me difficulty differentiating
between 0, 6 and 8
a’s and e’s and o’s
I choke as it rises over my mouth and nose
Those observing my struggle to survive
from the other side of the glass smile wide
as they speak in pointless platitudes
preaching worthless, irrelevant notions
such as I should look upon each grain of sand
as a potential pearl
but I am not an oyster in the ocean
The crowbar rattled at the clattering noise,
In the yard, against the hulls and hoys,
A Cloud of tar smoke rose through the green,
Large oil slicks floating on the lake sheen.
Inconsistent hills throughout the landscape,
The sunlight was a deep purple color shape,
Similar to the finishes of Florentine bronze,
That's it for the day, no real swans.
Overwhelming sadness now needs our song,
From death, an awful lot of sadness sprung,
What type of tears? What heart's grief arrest,
What sighs on sighs lobs the mom's breast?
With faint homes to brilliant ethereal light,
The enchanted guiltless has taken flight,
On the liberal bosom of undying love,
We find a concealed elevation above.
Warden, I realize you both mourn her loss,
She no longer feels the hold of pain across,
The regulations of elegance are without bias,
You can turn your pain into grace and praise.
The dread of the interminable assault,
The arrival of gizmos has long been sought,
All these notions had a major effect on history,
Each was a frightening age-related mystery.
The attack on slavery was nonsense,
Designed to hide the ambitions for pretense,
Never before has a tiny beast attacked so hard,
It just bites its horns and hides with its tiny shard.
Thoughts on webcasts, phone calls, Facebook,
Rising vitality contains attacks and an ebook,
Both were made by teenagers in their twenties
Bounty drives and precious realities.
Do not shed tears in the flowing river,
No real pain in the dark pits to deliver,
The first light was magnificently bright,
It was soon covered by the haze of the night.
This eliminates spontaneity, love, and anxiety,
It steals time and hides physical and moral piety,
Concept, politics, creation, and profit come first,
A blitzing slave was a lie to hide the curst.
1st Place Contest Winner
Written: September 08, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 32 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Last limpid light
Niche naughty night
Notice nice niche
Tender takes teach
Bright blossoms bloom
Gracious gifts groom
Sun styles sure smiles
Write words worthwhile
Sense soothing sounds
Grip gracious grounds
Find fleeting form
Nurture nice norm
Bright beauty blooms
Rich rustic rooms
Feel fond feelings
Sound spells steering
Be beyond boom
Defy dense doom
Faith freezes fear
Sense subtle seer
Choice confronts change
See showcase strange
Style succinct style
Pleasure peaks pile
Write wavy words
Dust dusty dirt
Etch easy earth
Be beyond birth
Start sacred stay
Prime pleasing play
Lovely laughs line
Make moments mine
Choose charming cheer
Niche notions near
Leon Enriquez
12 August 2014
Singapore
Fire lust of the angry clouds doth cover envy
To fork the stars upon my ever-changing view.
The crestling being i endure to hold of many
Foreign thoughts to translate a bonafide rue.
Carnival of lights leave me starstruck
In a haste no more than that of my gloom.
No one who knows of this life are stuck,
In a waste of bittersweet cloves that bloom.
As I sink down to the combers of lies
Nevertheless leaving my soul to him.
This monster of foreign carnage dries
To a crisp, no longer able to freely swim.
Finally feeling a soft touch upon my flesh,
Where is this pale longing rose of red I dread?
This flying repent of lustful notions is all I thresh.
Please let me fly with you in this land of the dead.
Denies of my request shows to me how I feel,
Still though, carrying me much higher and higher.
This resentful flock of gloomy encumbers peel
My skin I weary of angry clouds doth burn a fire.
I like the idea of
Next week
Next what
Weak
Ideas people have
No nothing of
Next never happening
What's happening
Tomorrow
Yesterday still not far away
Next to today
That has big plans
No empty hands
No next to never
Notions of
Tomorrow might not
Be here soon
Like next never
Failing to
Let you down
No frown though
There's a neat
Never
For everyone
The days done
Fun or not
You found it
Full
For tomorrow
With yesterday's
Flavor like
Lemonade
Let downs you
Didn't want to make
With them lemons
It takes a day
Like dollars
The flowers of
Youth
There everywhere
With places
Like faces
That never meet
And races till the clock
Say go
You know the pace
Toward tomorrow
With it's yesterday fine
An time to take a week
To get an idea of
Traces of today
Left to say
I'm sorry
Your gone
March
2023
I dream of magic lines but they elude me.
Chapbook on acrylic tube palette, janus-faced cave in
at the crack of dawn,
crescent moonlight awnings turn to circus of the soul,
images that colour dullard pages leave furrow on my
hayrick haggard brow.
Backwater sonnet form leaning towards some meadow compost rot.
Ghost written silhouettes, shatter fragile eggs on
loop pile Berber carpets,
yolk stain and pale brown chicken hash tags.
Tight rope knot escarpment found in tripod camera verse,
cliff edge heart-stop paen is just another
blue-sky canon over billed by birds of prey.
Poetic licence pointer to a learner permit doggerel,
aspiring metre patchwork but a tapered column
lost in grey day whimper.
Guangdong province text in lychee pink for window glaze.
Fleeting notions dangle at the sparrow hawk crossroads,
while grazing skinny red ballon formations overhead.
Mother of invention please shine your convex beam
upon this wellspring drought abandonment I swim in.
Sudden brain cell drafts a Jack-o’-lantern of disjointed phases,
stretcher bear the legless phrases that leave me
wheelchaired and infirmed in woolly states.
Timeline mainstream woofer whose lagging jacket hemline falls apart,
areole reduced branch slowly bleeds its cactus juice of inspiration.
A rush, a fever, quotidian fever,
no greater longing can us writers have.
Forever be the only player
in the game with your blindfold off.
Some of our wisest thinkers
focused intently on what
attacked their ideas.
The hunt for truth is not
necessarily confirming
your most loved notions.
Truth always lies
in the reality of nature.
Thinkers study patterns
and only then exceptions.
Then exceptions to the exceptions.
Long attention span
is the key to success.
Very small effects over time
accumulate in vast results.
Variations only show up in crowds.
Seeing the minute steps of success
placed in the proper priority
pins the tail on the donkey.
Free Verse 21 Lines 96 Words
Pen illustration by G. Gaul 2022
Relating to Darwin's theories of
Gradualism and Variation.
And, of course, the child's game of
Pin The Tail On The Donkey.
You can be proud of your city, home town or your village.
You can be proud of your home county and local heritage.
You can be proud of the school where you were taught.
You can be proud of the local pub, club or restaurant.
You can be proud of your family without taunt.
You can be proud of the journey your ancestors travelled,
and be proud of from where they travelled to get to this place.
You can be proud of these things and wear a smile on your face,
because with these prides there is no prejudice attached,
there is no stigma that sticks, this pride does not disgrace,
but you will find hesitation toward pride in your nation,
because isms and judgement exist in that statement.
Preconceived notions present this pride as different.
Some link national pride and racism without thought,
and with ignorance look down on you as a result.
They select history you were not there for,
and talk as though it was your fault.
Be careful with this pride as to them it is an outward insult,
as to them it says that you think you are better than the rest,
even though your thoughts contain no comparison of who's best
it is simply an inward thought in which no other or thing is caught,
It's not about others it's not a put down,
it's not a comparison, don't turn it around,
it's about you and where you belong,
why is this pride seen as wrong?
Some people have issues and see this an opportunity to dis you,
they group you a race or a type and dismiss you,
but you're only thinking about what makes you and who you are,
ignore these people calling you racist, because racist they are.
They think it acceptable to attack your nation through you,
some historic event in which they and you had nothing to do,
their opinion pure prejudice a warped point of view,
their passive attack not acceptable when they attack just you.
If you are proud to be a man is that an insult toward women,
if you are proud to be a woman is that an insult toward men,
this thought only contains pride in whom you are,
this thought does not include ideas toward whom they are.
So I choose to be proud of all that makes me, me.
My postcode, my accent, my roots and home country,
and if some thoughtlessly link this pride with an ism,
then I care not, as their thought process lives in a prison.
When sky walks down to earth
You be a wild shower of monsoon,
and tranquillise my soft soul burning,
Seasons in tears flowed into lagoon,
and the heart sank into aches of yearning,
If you could see my blazing passion,
and feel the inside flame rising high,
See the sky walk down in obsession,
and come to my rescue, heave a sigh,
If you could feel fragrance of my love,
diffuse so quick in deep emotions,
Care to subtly caress your white dove,
and ponder over doubtful notions,
You be a dust storm of dry desert,
and blow away my inner grief,
Gratify my thirst of deficient,
my ash rest in absolute relief !
Written October 31st, 2014
By Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For contest ' Top gun poetry - Structured form- Iambic verse III' by Giorgio A.V.
Iambic tetra meter with 9 syllables per line