Long On writing and wordsme Poems
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Yesterday, my heart felt a little tapping
Coming from the inside, a friendly rapping
It grew strong then weak, refreshed then weary
Sometimes ordinary, sometimes eerie
So I opened the door and looked inside
Looked past the smiles I've held and the tears I've cried
Right above where passions subside
I found a poem, cowering, yet untried
I tenderly tried to draw it out
Coax turned to order turned to shout
It simply sat there, unwilling to confide
Right above where passions subside
"Fine!" I yelled to it "Stay there"
I spared it one last snarl and a glare
And marched out with quite some flare
Marched out of the poem's lair
Locked my heart up behind me
Completely unable to foresee
The continued tapping of that rhyme
A rap at every clock and chime
So I decided to ignore it, unable to perceive
Exactly how unwilling it was to leave
Today, I woke up with a pain in my chest
Felt it as I brushed my teeth, as I got dressed
To be honest, I was quite impressed
This poem didn't seem to ever rest
But I wanted to discharge this vexatious guest
To be free of this detestable pest
It wouldn't leave upon request
It wouldn't move despite my protest
Even when I threw at it all the mental force I possessed
So to myself I confessed
It was causing me serious unrest
Leaving my brain distressed
My spirit depressed
Eventually, my failure expressed
I asked my heart a plan to suggest
After all, it was where the visitor resided
I asked and waited to be guided
For the heart to be decided
For the information to be provided
Realization hit my heart in the head
It called me to it, tugged at me with a thread
I felt it and to my heart I sped
I splayed before it and pled
"Save me – what do I do - help me"
To rid me of my companion it did guarantee
Pulled me close and whispered quietly
Told me the plan privately
I reacted violently
Refused mightily
But agreed finally
So I sit here now like some defender
Ready at last to face the offender
The battle commences, I let my heart grow tender
The verse rears up, here comes my contender
I marvel at its splendor
And Finally... I surrender
My challenge was not issued there! My challenge was issued here!
Which was why you threw me off, when, first, you ran in fear.
You, who had the reputation of being the best to play this game,
"destroying" all of your challengers, while gathering all of the fame.
But, maybe all of that fame went too quickly to your head,
As your audience ate up ev'ry word that you had said.
Respect for your battle skills was immediately reserved,
But, now, I have to wonder was all that respect really deserved.
As I stated in my "ODE," this is a game of speed and wits,
Where the strong throw all the punches, and the weak take all the hits;
Where a real poet accepts a challenge, no matter how many dare,
And is always ready to battle anyone, any TIME, ANYWHERE!
The last point, that I just made, is the one that you should read,
Giving it all of the attention, that it really needs.
I decided to step up, but you decided to run and hide.
I guess hiding is much easier, than swallowing your pride.
Ev'ry request that I made to battle was met with an excuse,
Which made me think that you were really trying to dodge all of my abuse.
Are you afraid to get embarrassed, or of losing all the fans,
After proving that you are unable to meet all of my demands.
If so, then you "officially" forfeit your claim to greatness,
Because any such claim, to me, would be considered weightless!
The number one spot is "officially" up for grabs,
So, now, the scientific minds are working in their labs.
"THE DOZENS" is the name of the game that we will play,
So, if you do not have the balls, then please stay out of the way!
But, if you do decide to play, accepting the fact that you just might get pinched,
Make sure you come alone, leaving your "boyfriend" on the bench.
I entertain the crowd, but from the crowd is who you run.
Therefore, your reign at the top is "officially" done!
Now, to more "worthy" opponents my focus has been shifted.
So, turn in your little crown, since you are obviously done with it!
Ready for round one...subject, verb, noun...done.
First, you tried to run, so now let's have some fun!
I got the message at the "PUB," when you poured it in my cup.
Now, get a dose of reality. It's time to sober up!
Please don't get it twisted, or allow yourself to get dooped,
Because "I" can go to the "PUB," and "STILL" order up some "SOUP."
When you saw my words, you thought that they looked rather strange.
You wish that you had my range, but you can not adapt to change!
When you studied my style, you should have studied it well.
Though, you were still destined to fail, since your coffin had been nailed.
You have trouble admitting that my style is much greater.
This food for thought is catered, so please don't be a hater!
I am a literary nerd. I play with words you've never heard.
In a one-on-one battle, I "MIGHT" let you come in THIRD.
You won't know what to do, when I am through with you.
I'll treat this competition like the "Taming of the Shrew!"
When it comes to writing rhymes, I am the one who sets the pace.
Those ten acrostic sonnets put a "SMILE" upon your face.
Your chances of beating me keep getting thinner and thinner.
I love to play this game, because "it pays to be a winner!"
I am too strong for you...you can not win...no matter what.
Steel sharpens steel, but my skill will get you cut!
I speak, because THIS is the answer that I seek:
"Were YOU really strong, or was your competition really WEAK?"
YOU patronized "OTHER" poets saying "ALL IN GOOD FUN!"
But, when the tables were turned on you, you, too, just came "UNDONE."
So, now you cry and tell me that you no longer are my friend.
Well, each and everything that begins must also have an "END."
Yes! I have an EGO, and with that there's nothing wrong,
Because, when "I" get slammed "IN PUBLIC," "MY" ego still stays strong!
Remember! This is a test! This is only a TEST!
So, STOP ALL OF YOUR WHINNING and just COME BACK WITH YOUR BEST!
Write !
Some madness banter of insanity
is pulling at my thoughts
spilling effulgent
in giant verbs and huge marching nouns
collecting snippets as it walks
stomping on flowers
and mushing liquid the paints of images
swirls captivated
with great toed boots
I can hear it coming
a hefty heavy steady stamp
and I am almost afraid that it might rack me
hit me hard
and demand some elucidated expression from me
I would shudder
but excitement won't let me
Instead it sets me to a creaking ball points
and tiny alphabets that strain my eyes
while spelling out its diffident request
Write it says
Write, while some half cold sickness grip my stomach
and I wretch on grammar
and thus the great feathers quill
dips in the ink of my soul
and so ineptly scribbles epilepsy
explanation, image, wordage, spillage of sensory lobotomy
partridge in a god-damn pear tree
Curl about my finger
and reek havoc through those dictionary brain cells
yer! smash them brain cells
mush, mash and squeeze the last drip
find expression in the gooey lumps that are left
WRITE ! god dam it !
Be succinct, be poetic
surpassing idiom and useless language
for Christ sake just WRITE it !
Pilloried on my own sheets of paper
by my own pen
because it never catches enough
as it twist this origami of words
i-n-t-o s-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g
I want to express
I need
I want
To etch with you
A moment of perfection
I need your voices
I need to hear you sing my poets
I need these scratching and scathing claws
and I need your delicate dance
I need something to end this misery
and I need this piquant
this ever enlightened soul search of words
to wrap up this bundle of love
And toss me nonchalant into eternity
Lest some madness of bantered insanity
Takes hold of me
You have a gift, a shining castle of words
Somebody told me, and I was naked in the night
How did you get this gift, this weave of tongue in flight
I am jolted again, to the time I was thirteen
Hanging from my father's death
On a long, thin silence of fear.
Memory is a rising sun in a bitter sea,
Hear me now, the heartbeat of my drum
Since the stag had bolt me through the woods
I fathom no reason, except love of solitude
I head the lead wires in my hand
It was our favorite past time and the season for roads
They cut through rocks to make them everywhere
Nothing got the votes like roads
And only politicians drove cars then
So after the dynamite had destroyed the familiar
We were left with broken bits of wires
Every child knew how to weave them
Into something beautiful
I was always making baskets, completed none
So I would not have to worry what to put in them
I wove with my fingers to incubate my words.
So here I was amidst the bush cries of birds
Covered in ripe naseberry aroma from the eyes of the stag
Of course I heard the thunder, saw the black clouds too
But I am not afraid of rain, there are trees to shelter me
That was when the lightning fell
Sizzled on my wire and danced right up my arm
Gbonka, it was not you, I know
I would have been burnt or dead
It was Bwana Shango
Telling me to sing, telling me to dance
Instead, I ran
But he was swifter than the stag
Went home slept, woke up with a song in my heart
A peeling joy for justice
Bogle in my left ear, Garvey in the right
A novel sense of freedom, a willingness to fight
And that is how my gift came
My pen is double axe and flame.
In English classes my skull would be reeling with a myriad of perplexities,
Struggling to cope with English Composition and its multitudinous complexities!
I could never understand (and never will) the mysteries of verbs and pronouns,
Or dangling participles, prepositions, conjunctions and irregular nouns!
"Your future will be mighty bleak," my patient teachers hinted indirectly,
"If you don't learn the intracacies of the English lingo now - and correctly!"
The long-suffering teachers considered me a dunce and their hopeless bane!
I wanted to be a pilot! How was this folderol going to help me fly a plane!
Incomprehensible to me were past, present and future perfect tenses!
Invariably, I bungled their use in trying to parse my sentences!
Fiddle Faddle! Why, I mused from my naive and youthful perspective,
Would I ever have any use for a comparative or superlative adjective?
My favorite classes were glee club, art and gymn - each in which I did excel,
But adverb clauses, proper and predicate nouns to my mind just didn't gel.
The use of consonants, vowels and indefinite articles left my head spinning.
I couldn't understand the use of predicates or proper titles from the beginning!
Thankfully, after the vicissitudes of high school and bewildering frustration,
I somehow managed to accrue enough English credits for my graduation!
Well, I reckon I ain't never gonna be no good at parsin' a sentence no how!
(Wouldn't my teachers be proud of that line! Or would they me, disavow!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved)
You may paint me scarlet or call me a harlot!
Crown me with infidelity, if you must!
Do I feel any guilt, turning away from you?
No, not in the least! I feel so incomplete!
But you knew of my first love, didn’t you?
I am a song that was already sung!
How I need my stolen moments
Without them I feel so lost!
You know the depth of this love I feel
How this essence feeds my soul!
So many times I have consumed bitter poison
I should have died, but for my love,
Who fought to keep my sanity
And drove the demons away
How I need my stolen moments
Without them I feel so lost!
But, you’ve known this all along. It was never hid from you!
Yet you pursue me with such diligence
Attempts to dissuade you shatter and fail!
A typical stalker, you refuse to give it up
I’d drop you today! If there was any chance I could
With your nagging persistence, you always interrupt!
How I need my stolen moments
Without them I feel so lost!
Forgive me, but I must escape
There can be no more delay
This sweet addiction is so very real
Sucks me in like the air I breathe
My love for poetry is endless and this you'll have to accept
When I lie as stone, already forgotten, you'd only leave a wreath
While my love and I'll live forever, throughout time and space
So you see, I must have my stolen moments
Without them I would be no more!
*Still venting about the obligations that constantly encroach on "my" time. Bet you thought
this was something "juicy" huh?!! lol.. No, just about poetry. Love, Audrey
they're not speaking to me now, the Muses;
they're being stubborn,
witholding information, like beetle-browed accomplices -
their mouths pulled tight as drawstring purses.
they sit on their twin thrones of epiphany and genius,
smiling silently,
mockingly, while my fingers twitch with impotent yearning
and the chambers of my mind are cold,
dark and hollow as a cave.
i have become a contradiction in terms -
the wordless poet strikes again...
writer's block is the yoke around my neck,
the anchor that sends me drifting lachrymose
into the suffocating depths -
i am drowning,
swallowing tendrils of seaweed and tufts of
gossamer melancholy.
a struggling artist shouldn't have to work this hard -
to pay the bills yes, but not to create;
without the birthing process there is no artist...
yet there is still hope, a smidgen, a dark smudge on the horizon.
some knight errant might appear, with golden locks
and a smile that trembles the knees,
to inject love and longing back into my sulky heart.
he might extend his brave hand, down into
these murky depths, and yank me up;
dragging my creativity, bedraggled, choking,
retching, into the bleak light of inspiration's flare...
but then again, who believes in knights these days?
i am just as likely to wither away down here,
among the fishes and the wall-eyed anemones,
until the words have all filtered from my brain
and poetry is just a fond memory
from long-ago halcyon days...
Bait ready, line in the water,
it is in the waiting that taught her...
its all in the way you put out the tease,
chumming the water for fishing the seas...
as the schools begin to near
easy meals entice the absense of fear...
slowly and smoothly reel in the line,
you have their attention, they're ready to dine...
May I catch a moment of your time?
Having it makes me feel real and sublime...
give me your interests, and I'll give you a piece,
in this little game of catch and release....
the pain of hunger is taking its tole,
instinct draws you in close as I pull at the pole
you nibble the bait approaching the hook
but here little bites bring on a second look
Ah, the pole bounces and the fisherman smiles,
it all goes to show and its been a while...
then the pole bends and now its time to pull in
the awaited moment thats about to begin...
May I catch a moment of your time?
Having it makes me feel real and sublime...
give me your interests, and I'll give you a piece,
in this little game of catch and release....
Since you were lured
I pull you a board
and measure you....
measure your growth,
but just rest assured,
you are adored...
I kiss you on the lip
as you flounder and flip
in my grip...
I only mean to help, I only mean to give,
return you to water so that you may live....
See, I got to hold you and you got to eat,
I played you and we got to meet....
I been on a different route lately cause I'm mentally focused
I rather heed God's voice then have curses come at me
remember the plague of the locust
I'm shinning so much I could blind somebody with this light
God's been talking to me a lot lately so
I ain't been gettin a lot of sleep at night
it ain't hard to maintain, if you blind yourself
from the works of satan
I'm now spiritually working in the physical not just contemplating
God told Ezekiel speak my word to my people
Lord willing I'll speak to my fam
cause if they die in their own wickedness & I don't
warn them than their blood is own my hands
I been having sleepless nights, but to God's voice I try to be obedient
If I denied my gift before I swear here & now I'm believing it
I'm taking heed to what God's showing me in this mental sanctuary
I may go threw bad times but he's tellin me Corey don't you worry
If this poem touches your heart thats whats up
Jesus said he'd draw all men unto him if he be lifted up
God said in due time we'll reap a harvest if we don't faint
because it is in God's will in everything we give thanks
God's word is like milk & honey it's so sweet to me
you can't tell me God ain't good
he fights my battles but gives me the victory
I'm holding on tight to God's everlasting arms
cause I know when I put my trust in him I can't go wrong