Long Notoriously Poems
Long Notoriously Poems. Below are the most popular long Notoriously by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Notoriously poems by poem length and keyword.
John Hamilton – Coming Back Home Acrostic PC
Charge forward, full speed ahead. Plane lands as planned.
Oh, my! You are two or three steps from the Promised Land.
Mom and Dad are now miraculously and incredibly here.
Immediate enthusiasm as you step off plane and see your kin.
North Vietnam was a place you have been for a whole year.
Gallantry you can put aside today, and be a little boy again.
Being in Viet Nam has given you an enormous look at war
Appreciation for the parents you never appreciated before
Challenge is to not lose it in public as you return from war
Kind strangers smiling as you run to the wife you adore
Happiness and joy replacing all strife.
Outstanding amounts of love, having their say.
Minutes we will remember until the end of our life.
Each homecoming notoriously wonderful it her own way.
Written 2/28/2021
Coming Back Home Acrostic PC
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Thank you Almighty Great God for giving US
This extraordinarily blessed and gleeful holiday
The turkeys are being fried, baked or roasted
The cranberry sauce is protected from the snow dust
The children are happy because their stomach
Will be plentifully filled up with healthy food
Cakes and ice cream will put everyone in a great mood
The homeless will be feasting on the deck
Happily sitting around the well garnished table
Like everyone, they dream that every day
Was as special as today, where God’s graces
Are raining gold all over the United States
This is neither a tale nor an imaginary fable
Today feels like payday, today is a joyous day.
The Wednesday before this amazing day
Should be called White Wednesday
Since the day after this day
Is notoriously called Black Friday
Thank you God for this special gift
For this day of hope; it sounds like a myth
No other country celebrates like us
This is truly a blessed day
This is like payday, this is a happy day
We all wish that we had more appetite
We all wish that we could remain light
After so many richly varied and delicious meals
Throw away the scales and the diet pills
For just today, let’s enjoy ourselves
Let’s not worry, and don’t pay attention to our curves.
Copyright © November 24, 2011, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Personal preference enters into every poetry contest
Outstandingly subjective
Enticing to one is repulsive to two others
Tricky to judge poems unless there are blatant errors
Ridiculous with a capital R to compare a poem against another
You can try though. Snicker. Snicker.
Comparing one poem to another is like comparing a flea to mirror.
Awesome to you is too dull for me to finish reading.
Notoriously wonderful to me is something you do not like a whit.
Normal people do not even read poetry, and yet, here we are….
Often contests shut down new poets who do not realize the numbers game.
Takes guts to put feelings to paper, and you may have to enter ten to win one.
Beautiful poetry to me is a waste of ink to you.
Enthusiasm captures my eyes, but only when written in my preferred styles.
Creativity sashays in a variety of ballets and watusi.
Outstandingly subjective. I cannot stress this enough!
Metaphoric writes intrigue me, yet I do not do them myself.
Poetry is pronouncedly purposefully a preferred personal preference.
A win means the judge liked it at this second at this minute of her day.
Reality is that you, as a poet, have to write like a painter has to paint.
Especially remember when reviewing and critiquing your own poetry,
Despite everyone else’s opinion, do you like it yourself? That is the key.
She was on a full tilt journey of madness said his relatives.
She was on a journey of adventure, and they were proud of her
Said her relatives.
Where to begin? It was a new day.
The sun was up. The birds were singing. She was alive!
Unclear whether she would be completing a project
Or hitting a wall but determined to spin
In a notoriously new direction
Poetry? Not yet
Art? Maybe
Painting? Collage? Mural?
She opened a closet and began
Frantic to enjoy her journey of freedom
Glad beyond belief to escape a tyrant of a man
Wondering why she had kept this from herself for ten years
Poetry? Maybe later.
After a sweet cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee
Alone in a kitchen with only her thoughts and the cat he hated.
She had made her escape. She was alive! The best journey she had ever made.
Riotous revellers' laughter drifts up from their apricot lit late night haunts, four cafes are notoriously avoided venues for overindulgent consumption of alcohol.
Across the street, from my thirtieth floor apartment window, remote portrait of bodies bent enthralled over their beers,
toads on stools at mushroom stem tables.
Flicker of forbidden recognition crosses my cortex,
- I'm a resident of Broadwater Tower now.
Unstated policy prohibits proximity with riff raff.
Our bar ensures we wear careful attire,
floor gleams mirror marble.
Chrome and cracked leather oud absorbs expensive scents.
Ladies laughter upscale conflicts the low fading mens' vocal.
Tipsy sensation enhanced by deck docked
rolling prestigious flagpole chiming yachts.
Over the road, neolithic neon signs post grotesque cafe names,
Salivate, Green Grotto among them.
Customers come from squat squashed suburbs,
five minute drive away.
Dive bar dark sparks alcoholic amphibians unremarkable bravado.
January holiday season sees sardines huddled heartily under awnings, abandoning next morning necessity.
24th February 2023
151 words
Written for Contest: Four Cafes
Sponsor: Julia Ward
He was the most basal, nasal
Bottom slowest, lowest
relative in their family, Jess Mamily.
They were fearful and tearful,
When his parents brought him to Sunion Reuion
He was dorky, dinky, odd, a clod.
Don’t play with him, said the Suion cousins, there were dozens.
So he sat alone, writing a story, penning a poem, a friendless gnome.
His penning paid off, he wrote a killer of a best seller.
He made two hundred thousand, maybe a few dollars more.
For the Jess Mamily the public knew was adored by the ten score.
The cousins began to knock on his notoriously famous door.
But he did not open it, remembering their mistreatment of him.
A Sunion Relative, but shunned no more.
On the Mamily size, Jesse had an always sweet cousin, Jim.
Not thirty four, not even a dozen, only Jesse and him.
This cousin was embraced by him and he shared his wealth.
Their friendship firm, both happy with monetary health.
I strutted a bit on my branch as I surveyed the others
They were commoners mostly songbirds, and two of my brothers.
Is that a great horn? A beautiful red cardinal asked in a trill.
I knew my stance was giving her and her friends quite a thrill.
My brothers began showing off, doing tricks, flying around.
They almost always act totally crazy when females are found.
A notoriously ugly turkey buzzard stopped by for a quick peek.
He flew off quickly when he saw the mouse I made squeak.
There was a rumor that an exotic blue-green peacock was in town.
Unfortunately she never showed up or I would have shown her around.
Is that just a Great Horn or is that THE Great Horn? I heard a robin ask.
I gave her a shuddered look that made her take a drink from her flask.
Intimidating other birds daily is what I easily and happily do.
If you were me, you would probably enjoy being the king, too.
My brothers of course had flown off by now, annoying another.
I heard them getting scolded by the real intimidator, our mother.
The darling, delightfully, dubious, delectable despicable day
No one thought to warn me; no one noticed maybe, never mind
It was an extra special, extraneously exciting, and exacting day.
I did not even notice at first, deliberating about dungarees,
I was exasperatingly naïve about anything except my wardrobe.
Unaware of what was whispering in winter, wishing mine had pockets.
So when the bodies bounced in, and the babies begin burping,
And the men marched madly, at first, I frankly did not notice.
But when I finally got dressed, in my extra special dungarees
There they were – the lonely, lithe, lively, luxurious long fellows,
Picketing, pirouetting, posing, and pinching, everyone notoriously
Not being socialized, seriously sassy. A despicable day in suburbia.
There is one we have not recruited yet, the small minded ones cried.
They chased me for hours, trying to get me to bend to their madness,
But although I had not been warned, I was fast, even in hard blue jeans.
My choice wise that delectable despicable, dubiously dangerous day.
For had they caught me and turned me, I would not be writing poetry.
I would not be throwing paint onto a canvas and laughing maniacally.
I would not be able to live my truth, and stick out my tongue at the masses.
But they did not, and so I can.
Pastor Dave is leaving a legacy …..
of books and sermons, that can be enjoyed after he gets to heaven
This is a gift for the world, and is appreciated ahead of time.
Pastor Dave, I hope your transition is easier than you expect.
Cancer is a notoriously horrible ending.
I hope you are able to enjoy life up to the last curtain.
Pastor Dave, your faith is known in heaven.
Go with the angels and take your place,
but visit us from time to time.
And if there is any way you could possibly help us in our dreams,
please give me the whole poem not just the last line as I awake.
God Bless you!
We are not merely poets
I am six hundred other things besides this
My Girl
Explains my voyeuristic childhood self.
My Pirate Women
I have been fascinated with them since Pippi Longstocking.
Color Me Happy
I am difficult to hurt; I believe in a joyful me.
Lickety Split
I live the life of this kindergarten teacher.
Hi I Say Brightly
I am notoriously eager to ignore adversity.
I am Addicted to Word Games
I play four to six hours of scrabble every evening.
Color Imagined
I love watching ducks swim in the spring.
We are World Wide Mirrors
We are all together in this, feeling the same emotions
Plethora of Flowers
Nothing delights my fairy-like essence more than marigolds