Long Offbeat Poems
Long Offbeat Poems. Below are the most popular long Offbeat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Offbeat poems by poem length and keyword.
The New York Times won’t publish
All the wedding news it gets.
Unless you are “acceptable,”
They’ll send you their regrets.
With attributes like wealth or fame
Or Ivy League degrees,
The Times may run your story,
But there are no guarantees.
I’ve always know this as a fact
But recently I’ve learned
That even in obituaries,
Some folks will get burned.
There isn’t space enough, they say,
To honor all who’ve died;
So only certain folks deceased
Deserve their place inside.
An influential person,
Or one “offbeat,” even “quirky,”
Will trump an ordinary guy
For reasons somewhat murky.
And so a woman from the west,
Who sculpted cows from butter,
Received her dose of fame while others
Got tossed in the gutter.
A local businessman who was
A veteran and giver
And art collector didn’t have
The goods he could deliver.
The obit writer at The Times
Did let the family know.
“Of course his life was worthy,”
But his story’s not a go.
My husband promised when I died
I’d make The Times – “Don’t sweat it.”
But now I realize there’s no way,
So he should just forget it.
It seems some people count for more.
There is a great divide;
But somehow that should be erased
When someone’s up and died!
The good in me,
I am a good friend and loyal;
eat healthy food and even drink green tea,
I treat my friends royal.
It is said- I am cheerful and friendly to all,
I am always so happy to receive a call;
to go dancing and have a ball,
honorable always this I can guarantee.
Often feel bad,
I am stained with the pain of death;
oh why, why did you have to leave me dad,
held mom 'till her last breath.
I like alone quiet time and often get hurt,
love silence- admit that I am an introvert;
peculiar and cannot convert,
and some think my poetry writing is too sad.
A special girl,
I love all poetry and art;
and not afraid to give painting a whirl,
told - I have a big heart.
Just a girl with an old soul quite offbeat and rare,
for the environment and animals I care;
with me friend- your soul will repair,
I am me, unique, just a girl who likes to twirl.
________________________
February 21, 2020
Added after judged, Mar 13, 2020-
Poetry/Rhyme/The Me-In Me
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1227-451-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Good, Bad, and Special
sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place
I can feel her stirring once again,
through gloss of morning and fog of twilight
echoing out a new adventure’s call
while the nomadic tempo beats;
a fine instinct's voice ignites her heart
drumming a free-spirit ‘s lively song...
with a bohemian flair taking after Grandpa’s mold .
As a middle-born girl, she is warm and complex,
running unto fields catching a hue
in firelight's inner-dance that spins a groove,
while exploring new trails never blazed
like a wayfarer ready to face the unknown
with painting exhibits that capture this offbeat strain.
Though she keeps life from being bland
defying traditional rules as archaic, oh run-down…
a childlike nature is kindled and forever moved
when her college students throw an overnight gig
as pinches of life's drama and hubris make swollen lids cry,
forgetting how an angel touched her at a young age.
Well, that’s what I am: a pilgrim soul of all time.
.........
Bio Of A Poet Contest for Tammy Reams
4/17/2015
I am the wrench in the clockwork,
a tiny twist in the gears of a universe
too vast to notice my pinch,
yet enough to reroute the cascade—
leverage, a quiet conspiracy of small forces.
Like a catapult built from old regrets,
I launch myself over gravity’s grumble,
where time folds like origami cranes—
folds that hide the sharp edges of loss,
each crease a fulcrum point for flight.
Leverage is the sly magician’s hand,
lifting an elephant with a feather,
trading the impossible for a wink—
an alchemist turning doubts into leverage,
transmuting weight into possibility.
I am the offbeat rhythm in a symphony of cogs,
the marginal note that shifts the meaning,
the whispered nudge beneath the thunder—
the pivot that tilts the scale,
turning imbalance into dance.
Leverage is the secret recipe in a shared meal—
a pinch of kindness, a spoonful of patience,
the subtle tilt that makes a cracked cup hold water,
the thread pulled to unravel a knot
that’s strangled days into silence.
It’s the crooked key that fits no lock,
the sideways glance that shifts a stubborn heart,
the small word spoken at just the right moment,
a lever pressed lightly beneath the weight of worlds.
When the world demands a lever long enough
to shift the mountains inside my chest,
I build it from moments others discard—
a stack of fractured promises,
a hinge forged from stubborn hope.
Leverage is not brute strength;
it’s the art of bending without breaking,
of finding the fulcrum in chaos,
a crooked smile in the face of fate,
a quiet power, slight but unrelenting—
the subtle architecture of change.
It’s in the way a whispered apology
loosens the bolts of bitterness,
the way a single seed, planted in cracked soil,
can uproot the wilderness of despair—
leverage is the unseen hand,
the small lever
that pulls a life
out of the shadows.
I was an odd little girl. At a very early age writing, and seeking out nature. I
loved to wander libraries and art galleries, while other little girls played with
dolls together. A loner, lost within my thoughts. I grew up to be a bit eccentric
and offbeat. My style of dressing is whimsical and unique to me. I love
seeking out vintage. The key is to not wear too much at one time! My pose
and mannerisms are quiet and gentle, people have commented on how calm
I seem. I found my Zen a long time ago. I do yoga and meditate each day.
Something about me is my need to know what is going on in the world.
I watch the local news, the Canadian news (yes, I am from Canada), varied US
news, and the World news each morning. Only then can my day begin! It is an
oddity I think as so many do not listen or read about the news. I like to read
books but not on a Kindle or on the computer I want, must actually hold a
book, I love the feel of the pages in my hands. I collect old books, well old and
fragile anything. A beautiful vase or plate with a chip perhaps found in second
hand shops. I do not need an expensive antique to satisfy my need for "old".
Well, that's the oddity of me, a whimsical, unique and a bit offbeat girl.
the forest quiet
the sound of soft snow falling-
I stop listening
_____________________
February 7, 2018
Poetry/Haibun/This Quirky Girl
Copyright Protected, ID 18-991-422-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Quirks
sponsor, Madison Demetros
Second Place
Written: September 28, 2024 For Form J - Jueju Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France.
Rumi Quote: { In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beauty came into the room,
expectancy start building.
Hearing her gentle footsteps,
a tender touch heals the heart.
Sweet words ripple from her lips,
at the brink of a refrain.
They slide swiftly to the beat,
battling to build their own rhyme.
Issues vanish from my mind
when I catch her magic smile.
She draws me into her world,
as spring arrives in my town.
Shoes tell time from toe to heel,
she sings with a velvet voice.
Harp in its rack, she wails down,
offbeat tune crafted with love.
Rising, a second ahead of stead, fine timing of executor
Horse gusto momentum, mortality a trot towards death
Tied up apple placated decades are dust obscured
Gallops a gamble heart squeeze mane clenched
Bridle left imprints jovial jockey rubs in virility
River pebble tossed prospect to become creek victor
Firm hooves with haphazard legs flail out of depth
Eyes which recognise primary desire, easily lured
Guile of reliance, combed gleamed pretense
Leads to forsaken stable of lollypop loyalty
Karat snap accusations on nonchalance don't register
Angry words inhaled in dawn fragile waking breath
Hat shade Sunday hums hymn worship conditional
Dictation praise from chapter of Shera Seven
Pampers offbeat imminent dog food frailty
Eleventh of May
Mercedes, Argument, Diamonds
MATERIAL SQUIRREL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There once was an offbeat squirrel named *Madonna,
In sequins and sparkles, she fashioned herself a prima donna.
She shopped till she dropped,
Buying beads and clothes, nonstop
Saying “I’m a material squirrel in a material world, uh huh!”
In the forest, she performed most every night,
Dancing under the moon's luminescent light.
She sang, “I'm a material squirrel,”
Her voice loudly did unfurl.
“With acorns and bling, my life on stage is bright!"
Why gather just nuts?” she was heard to declare,
“When diamonds and gems are priceless, and rare!”
With a flick of her tail,
She forged a fashionable trail,
“I’m a diva squirrel with style beyond compare!
Note*“Madonna Louise Ciccone an American singer, songwriter, record producer, and actress. Referred to as the "Queen of Pop", she has been recognized for her continual reinvention and versatility in music production, songwriting, and visual presentation…Her popular song, "Material Girl," is a synth-pop song by Madonna from her 1984 album Like a Virgin. The song expresses her preference for material wealth over romance and became a pop culture icon.” (Source Wikipedia.com)
Written on 29th and 30th April 2012.
BY: Sashi.Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Father time always has lessons to open heartedly preach,
Of late have understood few of them, which was for a long time out my thoughts reach.
Now life seems to me as a sandy bank of a long desolate beach,
Where we trudge life’s sandy path in a hurry without an end the shores of success to reach.
But I often ask myself, what lessons, life to us, does preach?
Need to with all 5 senses deem or else we will end up filled with remorse and impeach.
People tell me about change,
And ways to my life rearrange.
But my heart and mind vehemently hum to me to be real sure,
And ensure that the changes don’t take my life on an offbeat detour.
Far away from people who on me shower their love and care,
Is that what you desire I ask myself? Stop think, mull and be minutely aware.
Life’s Moments pass us like flowing water of a the sea or stream,
Linger on, Sweet memories of some wonderful people who touched us like waves, come to mind or in our dreams.
In our quests to succeed and get on in life we strive to move ahead to the success shore,
And those cherished moments keep flashing in our dreams and in our thoughts more & more.
But
We trudge each day life’s sandy path in a hurry the shores of success to reach.
Need to with all 5 senses deem or else we will end up filled with remorse and impeach.
Life’s Moments pass us like flowing water of a the sea or stream,
Linger on, Sweet memories of some wonderful people who touched us like waves, come to mind or in our dreams.
So
I often mull and ask my mind,
Mostly about me but also about thoughts that often in mind and they themselves grind.
Must I, my beliefs, ideology and principles change?
To improve my life and it’s relations and my entire life rearrange?????
Now
I long to be my original me
As an original is worth more than a copy, as the world conceives and all see,
I am my original me.
I am me
I am
Me………….
.. continued
Flag-lowering is a daily observance at the Wagah Border, open to the public this day.
On our view of the gate:
l --- Bharat ------------------------------------------------- India --- l
A crowd gathers on either side - Eleven thousand are provided seats.
Not unlike a cricket match, except everyone leaves satisfied.
(Communalism - it caused two parts of a whole to drift apart.
Seven decades later and to this day, sweets are exchanged across the frontiers.)
With measured steps they neatly stride, a silver blade in hand upright.
Handmade badges turned to gallantry ribbons..
a soldier’s uniform is always lined.
revered fabric
draped across two sturdy palms
nation in his arms
~Late Evening TV Coverage of the morning’s events - The Prime Minister’s speech~
A crew stands on nine years of sandstone - A bird’s view from afar.
Hailed by music
he walked into a constellation of schoolchildren
‘Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high’.
Acceptance is the first step towards change:
Violence in the name of faith is unacceptable.
"In the New India, the biggest strength is democracy.
But we cannot reduce ours to mere ballot boxes. Our resolve is to have a democracy where people are not driven by the system, but the system by the people."
I watch the proceedings
many states away
nation in our hopes
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Jai Hind
Tricolour lighting in my city:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=herkuupDnAo
Internationally:
www.ndtv.com/offbeat/independence-day-2017-indian-embassies-light-up-in-colours-of-the-tricolour-see-pics-1737756