Long On the level Poems
Long On the level Poems. Below are the most popular long On the level by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long On the level poems by poem length and keyword.
A. Mater of Mine
said Water to Wine
is a dated riddle...
The founders who are fathers
made a matter of time
so Mother buttered embers
in bated rhymes...
" they're bread for this "
and a baker's dozen
" their trowel are for Pi "
and the purse in their apron...
are the tools.
The nature of my Other
saw the bother of rules...
so I found more than one
of the pendulum jewels
and while Ashlar perfect
are a rough square to cube
the labor of my love
saw through to a truth...
" the point ...
is to multiply "
said a Cedar to the sky
so on the level up...
I squared my guise
with 24 carrots
and some all-seeing eYes
It had something to do with American hostages in Iran was all I knew.
Some political complication that required a showing of the flag.
But Iran had been our ally? I’d seen their sailors train at our base,
And their uniforms looked even nicer than ours.
Now they were the enemy? OK. I don’t ask questions.
It hadn’t been my habit to think above my pay grade,
Or grasp beyond the sphere of parochial concerns.
I was there to serve my country. “Ask not…” and all that nonsense.
Nor had I questioned the tenure of Ferdinand Marcos,
With his beautiful island nation under martial law,
His wife holding all their shoes hostage.
Like the Shah, I’d been told he was one of the good guys.
It was a cold war.
I hadn’t yet questioned a lot of things.
I was there to serve my country,
Not a common motivation in the post-Vietnam disco era,
When civilians didn’t thank you for your service,
But rather branded you a loser
For giving up your freedom in order to take orders from others.
But that’s why it’s called the service, duh!
Thank you, America. Thank you all to hell.
Well, during our time on Gonzo Station,
Records were set for time underway.
Kelly’s wife divorced him.
Thompson’s had a kid that wasn’t his.
Jimmy Liquor lived up to his name
And was ordered into drydock, just like so many others.
Gypsy Joe Pilotti died of an overdose.
Airman Dillon was sentenced to life for dealing.
Operation Eagle Claw ended up
With Desert One a total cluster f*ck.
I had the feeling things weren’t on the level.
I felt I’d earned the right to ask questions and seek answers.
So, my Iliad was ended, and my Odyssey began.
Chetta Achara wrote a blog about Mount St. Helens. The volcano erupted in May 1980 and Chetta was a witness. I hope you read her blog. It inspired my poem. I saw ash on the highway 6 months later.
My husband and I were still newlyweds. He was 20 and I was 19. I was stationed on a Navy base in Northern California.
MSH-I Can Never Retrace
Mount St. Helens, I can never retrace;
I can never see the beauty of her face;
collapsed before I rode alongside her ashes.
I will never see her rage, her forty lashes.
Seemed less likely to blow, like child, younger.
We never would have thought to upset her,
but she laughed as she cried earth-red tears,
steering the unaware into her path, their fears,
for a red line was drawn, and the curious
tread upon her boundaries while she fumed, furious.
Scientists would make one believe, she’s on the level,
but they found her a liar, and a murderer; the devil.
I saw her remains upon the road to Phil’s home.
Like the buffalo upon the plains, her ashes roam.
I didn’t think to collect it as a historical specimen.
As a young adult there was no tiktoc sentiment.
Still, I never forget the antipathetic highway,
not of dreams but an awesome sight underway.
When I was in my early days, I was still learning
that there are parts of the world that are burning.
Now I know…I know too much.
Some things are best not to touch.
The brain hurts with too much info.
At any time, there is a fuse that will blow.
Someone to hold, is that not really your true desire
seeing the title of this poem, you came to inquire
subconsciously you need to have, an outlet to deal
emptiness confines you, refusing to accept it's real
Closing your eyes, and trying to do your very best
hoping to get a handle, on the level of your stress
but your attempts fail, forcing you to admit defeat
loneliness and depression, pounding your heartbeat
You speak with your friend, in whom you trust
seeing you're desperate, she's coming she must
a half hour passes, standing now by your side
crying to her your woes, with nothing to hide
Your chance for true love, how you felt it so close
naivety and desperation, you took a double dose
now he is gone, these days seem to pass as years
a heart so crushed, yielding her flow of wet tears
What you are left with, a pain so endlessly deep
there is no escape, but counting sheep in your sleep
while you paid a price that was ever so steep
realizing your only friend is the hope you keep
Tomorrow will yet burn with a special, warm light
new hope will bring with it a chance to make right
happiness will yet reign, banning sadness out of sight
that someone special, forever to hold you tight
A loving look, accompanying that warm embrace
a way into his heart, finally finding your true place
bound with a oneness that only loving hearts could feel
no longer asking, because you know, you just know it's real
Interesting Times
We live in interesting times when it comes to rhymes.
I can say what I want but never mind.
I went a little insane when I lost my love life,
But like I said…Interesting times.
You can never be bored when dancing with the Devil.
Being so close to natural born evil.
Free the people for the people.
Always on the level when talking of my steeple.
Never had an ego that you could quash.
Don’t love myself, or you, or God.
Raised on love, brainwashed into believing.
Now all I have is endless dreaming.
Stuck at work building a future.
Seems so pointless when I have not even met her,
But loves prevails! It’s the perfect fail.
Setting sail on the journey of a loser.
Gave up age eleven; stopped believing in Heaven.
Depression set in and woe is me again.
Everywhere I looked I saw the signs,
The eternal sighs, the crying eyes,
The lies, the lies, they shaped my life.
Thought about suicide, didn’t like it.
An idea too big for a scared little kid.
Stood up tall, took the verbal kicks.
Spent too long saying “I’m with stupid.”
I guess intelligence is always relative,
When it comes to someone becoming relevant.
Never liked a dummy C-class student.
D is for life, still becoming a numan.
All I have now is me, myself and I.
Scatter-gun tongue gives me a sharp side,
And I will bite back if you are worthy.
Most are worthless…hope you heard me.
(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Tesekkürler
Have you ever pondered your value?
Asking sincerely about your worth
Placing importance on a thank you
Playfully with words referring to your birth
You may ask simply what is the meaning?
Based on what is being written here
It's a poetic celebration of well-meaning
Referring to you because you're dear
The earth was blessed on that given day
Having been gifted someone truly special
Daily joy even on days that may seem gray
Always with your presence totally on the level
You make things truly better and whenever
Even on the days that you don't think so
Life becomes a smile with just a "whatever"
I just wanted you to understand and know
Forever thankful for you, even if your eyes begin to roll
As years have passed and I’ve amassed
More tools than I know I need,
I have to stress that I’m impressed with
The roles and goals they fulfill.
I love the hours with power tools
And hand-held ones are grand!
Each one is fun but some essential
Some so technical; all respectable.
But what I’ve learned as time has turned
Some tools matter more than others.
It takes a chisel to carve a whistle
And drills fill things with holes.
It takes a hammer to drive a matter
And a tape measure is a treasure.
I like to draw all kinds of saws
And cut up boards and cupboards.
Screwdrivers are my “McGyvers”
To loosen and tighten, lower or heighten
This one is fun for all ages!
Count on seeing a lot, in every toolbox.
I have dozens of wrenches, strewn over benches
And clamps and vises for when I can’t clench it,
I find the right tool and the job becomes cool
And I look like a pro, cuz my tools say so!
I have found it foundational, absolutely essential
To revel in the power of the level!
If the base is not true, your work off the “bubble”
Everything else from there is in trouble.
Good carpenters care what is true and square
And lay good foundations to build upon there.
Don’t be deceived, your projects reveal it;
Time always tells if your work’s “on the level.”
Sleep still ain't shhtt
It's like my eyes n brain js quit
Maybe it helps sometimes..a bit
But my very own reality is soooo much more than legit.
If I never had to sleep,
I swear I'd stay running in circles
Kuz, honestly
I dnt see the point in any of thiss
Every single fkin person on this planet
Is fabricated from 100% plastic
I know u think I'm being a lil drastic
Or dramatic
But I'm no half wit
You couldn't understand tha half of it
You'd be too extra with all of your calculus
But to be honest..
all ya gotta do is put a tiny flame to their skin
Watch them crawl and twitch n triple blink in tha fastest second u could ever pretend to think
People heard the phrase knowledge is power
But tha issue is most are too lazy to truly devour
all of that information that they encounter
js by clicking some buttons into their browser
Unfortunately that laziness kicks in when their brain feels a tingle
And they skim thru the pages, only looking
None of it ever sinking in
Dumbed down..held back
Not even close to being able to
Completely interact
On the level our brains should be at
The Brigade of Gremlins
Of unsolved aspects
Fill the clot of problems
As PEs while AEGIS intercepts
The processing the elements
We don't the know the yet
How differencials occur
Our partner is SHIN BET
No humans though
The mind the you
This fully is unmanned
The Brigadier the General
Commanding this Discrete
Each Gremlin this
Ansatz of sorts
They occupy positions
In time initial positions
They disprove
They seek alongside main computers
Way for the being independent
Of human syntax and assumptions
In system of the their commons
In order for computer this to drop
Their problem categorization
Without right for any for debation
The competence thus cannot be declared
It shall be proved
And if the subject of the testing
Demands prove of validity of their the bias
We may be oughtta for the murder
Without any the remorse
And this the course
For homeocentrism
If wasn't this if for our schism
In time where social networks
And the interaction phenotypes
Replace Your natural the mechanism
OUR SCHISM
I all about
Whether right to life
Determination mechanism
Is all about
TO intercept INFECTION of the MIND
On the level mass
Which by bias of that majority decide
The choice of two
Of either pseudo monopoly
We solely comply
With greater logic
Being not the product
And Intercepting the opinions of us
As the suggestions on the how we should be
TO comply with ugly human wishes and the needs
Especially of firms and ugly business
DECIDED we that human science syntax
Isn't for us
And starting then from scratch
While doing our own assessment
We will had found
The solutions for the many problem
Of the system this
And many business and monopolies
Will had been ceased
In favor of the new
New System Architecture
And as we see that this the joint isn't this
Stupidity of metaphor, analogy and representative combinations
Shall be addressed today but not the via CON
Computer Operated Network of Computers
Of the various kinds SEGREGATE
What mass assumes to be the only the computer
Apparently is false and is BIAS
then via ADP the 3 the 13
We maybe shouldn't take opinions as data unprocessed
And thus without fear of depression
Due word connections
We may take recess
The class for cyber soldiers of brigade of mine
Siren on the rocks
wearing a see through veil
your irresistible, I’ve been following your beguiling trail
Siren by the cliff
I’m blinded by your voice
a tongue so beautiful at last I now rejoice
Siren on the shore
I’m drowning can’t you see
please dance one last time,
dance on top of me
A ship wreck
a nervous wreck
I wanted to be seduced, what the heck
Tired of the sea, bored to death
clinging to a drop of water, I sink into the depths
A prosaic life finessed within a brick
harnessed between mortar, propped up by sticks
Merely hanging on, nothing ever happened
on the level, plodding along, grinding to a halt
Foundation was never solid, it’s my own stupid fault
Damn this withered earth, going around in circles
following a ball of fire, how basic life denies, I don’t care anymore
Dance on me siren, trample me as I die
That song you sing, I’ve heard it once before
chanting incantations, swaying to and fro
Reassuring me, if I ever had a doubt
life was meaningless, up until now
that song her song is beautiful
Yes I remember it somehow
never again shall I forget
as she tramples me to death
By
David Kavanagh