Long Oddest Poems
Long Oddest Poems. Below are the most popular long Oddest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Oddest poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm not 100 percent positive
But I think my girlfriend is a spy
You might be wondering where I got this idea from
Sit back and I'll explain to you why
She gets calls on her cell phone at the oddest of hours
Tells me she must take this call because it is urgent
Whispers into the receiver, then walks out of the room
So I'm pretty sure she's a secret agent
I ask her out for dinner on the weekends
She tells me there's no way, she just can't
I figure she must be going on a secret mission
Perhaps somewhere in the South of France
I've had plenty of friends tell me they've seen her
Out at different times with different guys
She'd better be careful or she'll blow her cover
As a top notch international spy
Out of curiosity one day I did follow her
When I called and she didn't call back
I saw her at the mall with another man
Whom I assume is her main contact
They were at a corner table in the food court
Sitting together up close face to face
They didn't want any other spy's hearing their secrets
As they make for us this world a safer place
Now that you've heard all the evidence
You now know the reason why
I've come to the only conclusion
That my girlfriend is a spy
I've got this bad habit,
Lord knows I've tried to stop it,
But it just seems impossible,
Always getting me into trouble,
Making me do the oddest things,
Like trying to fly without wings,
Heaven knows I can't get through,
This habit of always falling for you.
Sometimes I swear with a raised hand,
To try and be a better man,
But when you walk and pass me by,
My determination tends to say goodbye,
And there I go right back to the start,
Chasing you around with a racing heart,
Coz heaven knows I can't get through,
This habit of always falling for you.
I've tried to sever all connections,
I've been to a dozen confessions,
To free me of this insane habit,
That seemingly bears no limit,
But still I lie awake all night,
Restlessly turning till the morning light,
For heaven knows I can't get through,
This habit of always falling for you
So you see, you're my nemesis,
To my insanity, its genesis,
Driving me through to the revelation,
That your smile to me, be my salvation,
For if not for your radiant face,
I may be without a saving grace,
Since heaven knows I can't get through,
This habit of always falling for you.
I stand naked by the mirror
Looking at myself
I look like ummm
Something off a dusty shelf
My ribs stick out
You could play them like a harp
And my eyes bulge out my head
Like a half squeezed Chihuahua pup
My legs they call them lucky
They like two fighting swords
I have the knack of amusing people
With them I even won awards
Now my wife is a total contrast
She’s short, fat and round
It takes me three hours to spread the fake tan
But she still comes out unevenly browned
Just the other day I thought
She threw the duvet over me
But when I opened one eye
I saw it was a crusty bikini
I love to watch her dressing
It makes me shake at the knees
I feel like grabbing a handful of ripples
And give them a gentle squeeze
Driving the car is a challenge
Her ripples stop me changing the gear
And when we walk down the street
We look like a shield with a skinny spear
But to her I’m her half finished pepperoni
To me she’s my fluffy bread bun
We always do things together
I’m telling you, we have so much fun
And now I would like to announce
The arrival of baby number seven
We may seem like the oddest couple
But it’s a match made in heaven.
Let’s do character studies she said.
I had no idea what she meant.
Her mouth was thin and mean-looking when she suggested it.
I feel she is wound so tight; her springs might break.
I imagine them pinging around the room like bullets.
She is the oddest writing teacher I have ever had.
She gives us total freedom.
Some of us cannot deal with this.
We run up to her desk to demand more direction.
She smells like old fruit juicy toilet water and she has a turkey neck.
What is a character study? I ask her. I do not understand.
She refuses to answer.
The worst teacher in the entire world.
I am slipping from annoyed with her to hating her.
I look up and she catches me with her snake-like eyes.
She is my kryptonite.
I end up insecure like a homeless individual,
Going through the streets of sheer cruelty
I desire to be mighty like you, my faith fuel
Blowing like the breeze of mere uncertainty
Hope you're happy where you are...
Well, I have packed up all my things
I'm about to head to another country
I will see what this lovely life brings
Maybe, I will wondrously be free
I hope you shine like a midnight star...
I am done fighting for the crown of recognition
I am backing down my guard of glorification
I accept my fate at hand
Don't stand where I stand
I am aware of my decisions made here
And I dare you to try to change my mind
I am not afraid or cowering away in fear
I'm staying right here...made up my mind and choose to unwind
I hope you are motivated to the highest bar
I am just a man
A man that tries his best best he can
To find solace in the oddest location
I am just a boy
A boy who has unbroken, blameless joy
While wandering around in anticipation
Hoping you are zealously zooming like a car
Don't follow me
In the woods of oblivion
Don't even see me
As I attempt to zero in
On a prize I have yet to win
On treasure through thick and thin
Don't hear my echoes
Don't stick your nose
In my business again
Don't fence me in...
Don't fence me in...
Hope your success takes you far
You said aloud:
Swallow your pride
In the rowdy crowd,
I try to hide...
Subside from my side
Subside from my side
Abide elsewhere...
You still don't care...
I prepare for the worst
Or for the better
I think I might just burst
You still wear your I-don't-care sweater
I hope I have healed your shameful scar
I end up insecure as a widower in the rainstorm
I am a spider without his meal, left starved and hopelessly dyin'
I wish someone out there will mend my scars and keep me warm
Now, I've come to realize that I have become a brazen lion
Hope you don't mind me keeping your words of enlightenment in my jar
It's hard to fathom
This feeling of numb
This eerie isolation hurts
I long to be strong
I hope, one day, I will belong
Let us both hope that we belong and end this greed war...
For we fight for peace
And for peaceful unity, nothing to bizarre
Oh Lord, give us peace
Not to mention hope...
Dear Sprouting Rhymers,
To me, modern poetry could be most simply put as “everything”,
everything that you see, experience or feel put into words.
Everything written to evoke thought and feeling in others can be poetry.
A most basic example could be a tear, one lonely teardrop.
What is the journey of a tear, what feelings caused it to emerge?
What meaning does it convey? What does it say to you
and what do you want others to see or feel?
The possibilities are endless.
Should I be able to share anything of value to others would be
very gratifying from my humbled perspective, so I will
offer the following.
The best poems stem from truth, your truth.
When you are in the mood to write, do not hesitate. Times
will come when you wish you were inspired.
Ideas come at the oddest times, at concerts, at dinners,
at the grocery store, in dreams. Record them.
Write about what you see.
Let your passion guide you.
Don’t be afraid to take chances. Risks are worth it even
If you fail. Growth is sometimes painful.
Respect rules and learn from those you admire.
Study and attempt all forms of poetry. There is so much
more to poetry than rhyming
Do not be afraid to ask for help.
Have fun!
Having started writing later in life, I can only say that I wish I
had done so much earlier. I have enjoyed enormous satisfaction
in discovering that I could contribute something of beauty to the world.
I love to write about romance and summer and sunsets
and things that are silly.
Favorite reference sources are Poetrysoup and Wordhippo,
My favorites of the poems that I have written are:
My Blue Valentine
One can speak of Sunset
The Writes of Romance
If You Weren’t Such a Nut Meg
Confessions of a Renoir
Needles in the Snow
The Forgotten One
A Concrete Heart
Hot Summer Ecstasy
Golden Torture Looms
My literary background is purely that of an amateur. From
as far back as I can remember, I always liked to write and tell
stories. It wasn’t until I experienced a personal tragedy, a few years
ago, that I felt the need to put my feelings into writing as a way
of healing. Since then, I have not stopped and I write nearly every day.
A suggestion for title: There’s a Poet in Everyone
(A Guide for Beginners)
Good Luck!
Marquetta’s funeral
it is the oddest I have seen
held not in her hometown, but several hours away
in a place she has not lived for fifty years
most of her friends are in their nineties
they do not drive, cannot get to this place
even their children do not drive well,
for they are in their seventies
two of her children planned this fiasco
without telling their three siblings
it became the Julie show
Julie is the youngest, it has always been the Julie show
Julie is the main speaker,
she speaks about herself
I, I, me,
Me, me, I
I am successful.
I am glorious.
I am great.
I am astounded.
When will Marquetta’s name be mentioned?
It is not mentioned at all.
I stare at Julie.
She has not changed. It is still the Julie show.
i am writing this poem in an elevator while stuck
the light represents the darkness that i feel
i guess i deserved to be literally abandoned by you
i was not the best for you and your personal expectations
i wish that we could have been friends, but i understand you declining
it's funny how reflections, thoughts, examinations, and introspection can come in the strangest of places
it's strange how realization and 'oh!' moments can come at the oddest and most mind boggling times
though i do not want to do it, i go on ahead and push the alarm
it is times like these when i hate the true definition of immediacy
i will eventually go out into the continually ever-moving future
i begin to shake and become nauseous to the point of curing up in the corner of said elevator and throwing up until i die
nevertheless, i know i must bravely face the world again
i just never thought that it would be without you after all this time
i will exit this cold, drafty, drabby elevator with my head held high, but in early untruth
when the elevator doors slowly open, i hope and pray that you will be waiting for me with your loving arms open
then again, i know that i will be lying to myself, so with hesitation i prepare
They say that the truth is a hard thing to take,
but maybe it’s time that we see
that we as a people are nothing but fake,
ensuring that’s how it will be.
We stand up demanding there’s tolerance,
doing so with our fists in the air.
It’s truly the oddest dance ever been danced,
hypocrisy beyond compare.
We claim we want peace but we seek the next fight
as we keep our guns close to the door.
Convincing ourselves that we stand for what’s right
when the truth is we’re actually just bored.
We say that we want to be free men,
while we ride our past into the ground.
We claim that we run from our demons,
but we really just keep them around.
And we live our lives waiting for the next offense,
needing others to kindle the flame.
We’re a common collective without common sense
like the scarecrow not having a brain.
So, let’s go on pretending we live for the truth
but the truth is we’re living a lie,
for each soul who actually lives for the truth…
we find a way to crucify.
When I first laid eyes on him, he was alone.
So very solitary, he was but a stone,
just lying there as if he had been thrown
carelessly to nothingness, a rock that had never shone.
A gem he could not be! He was the oddest thing I’d ever known.
A strange and simple stone beneath a barren tree -
a tree which offered no relief of a leafy canopy.
He’d lain there so long where there was no bird’s melody,
and since he had no eyes, there was nothing for him to see.
I bent and picked him up – this stone upon dry ground.
I took him with me, and I showed him all around!
Slowly I was cracking open this rock that made no sound.
In time, I noticed from inside him there emerged the sweetest glow.
I’d pierced the stone’s hard core like the arrow from a bow!
From what he used to be, the stone has now come far!
What he came to be for me I had never been foreshown.
But with some time and patience, I guessed the remedy.
How to open up the stone was the solution that I found.
In my cracking him, rare beauty I have come to know,
for inside the stone was waiting to be born – a shining star!
Feb. 22, 2018 for Gregory Barden's"MINUANETTA Contest using rhyme scheme
of (at least) AAAAA, BBBB, CCC, DD, E, ABCDE. It must have a least this many lines, (20)
Theme is "CHREMAMORPHISM"