Long One upmanship Poems

Long One upmanship Poems. Below are the most popular long One upmanship by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long One upmanship poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Political Tit For Tat

Political Tit For Tat
Tom’s Opinion
2-5-2020

A partisan divide hovers over Washington today,
there’s no middle ground, when children act this way.

Once elected, some appear, to think voters are ancillary,
and they return to superior thinking and being contrary.

Good will in Government was a time that has passed,
To their objective of one upmanship, they’re steadfast.

Having the last word has become the name of the game,
our elected officials have cloaked our country in shame.

Many, when refusing to stand, perpetuates derision,
and the peoples needs aren’t served when there’s division.

With no respect for the office the speaker tears up a speech,
and as history records this, more negativity it will teach.

Simple disagreements shouldn’t political enemies make,
We need real Christian leadership for our country’s sake.


Daniel 2:21 
King James Version
And he changeth the times and the seasons: he removeth kings, and setteth up kings: he giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to them that know understanding:
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Ashtavakra Gita Verse 13:2

13.2
“The body is strained by practices
The tongue tires of scripture
The mind numbs with meditation
Detached from all this,
I live as I am”


The matrix of in-form body consciousness 
Employs limited bandwidths of vibration
Perceiving with defective awareness
Interpreting in patterned grooves of stagnation 

Yoga, meditation, service or devotion
The rituals and forms but offer hypnotic solace
They offer temporary peace by reinforcing ego delusion 
Falling way too short of connecting with Divine grace

The root of all limitation
Lies in association with the mind body combine
If we be as we are in childlike elation
With the pulsations of the Divine we automatically align

The flow thus being in the present moment continuum 
Wherein we are as we are complete
In stillness observing movement of the maya pendulum 
Always with the Divine nectar replete

(20-August-2019)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Verse revisited on 16-November-2021

Doing nothing, simply present
We are as are in our native element 
Mindful eye of each pulsation cognisant

Body ages, memory fades, we learn
Misaligned from love, suffer, burn
Narrow cravings of ego upturn

God omnipresent, here within
Silence the void, where we begin
Feeling then, bliss throb on our skin 

Ceasing to weigh and size, we vaporise
Receptive to each offered surprise 
Feel oh hermit, magnetism rise

Exiting limited mind borne doership
Head-heart melds ending one-upmanship
Through day and night unending our worship 

We negate not this here mind-body combine 
Simply ceasing doing, with love we align
Playing earth role as God does assign

Nothing to be done, we’re bliss replete
Nodes within dance to the divine love beat
As magically rises within us, magnetic bliss heat
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Fire And Gasoline Twosome

"Watch out for these two! A disastrous inferno" - quote by poet.


    Talk about the definition of trouble!
 Two people tainted with potent toxicity.
 As if either of the two isn't bad enough.
  Such up-to-no-good partners in crime
 Walking down a crooked primrose path.

   Keep a sizeable distance from them!
   They're a fire and gasoline twosome;
 An oil and water combination, no doubt.
  Think of a Bonnie and Clyde dynamic.
      Think a film noir femme-fatale...

    And a malleable, meek private eye.
  Oh, the twisted mind games they play; 
 It's a constant game of one-upmanship
  And manipulation against one another.
   Did I mention they rob and kill, too?
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Damocles Fallen

A gray cloud hangs ominously
On the horizon, overshadowing
The last golden rays of the sun.
Below, Damocles waits;
The sword hangs by a hair!
In a great white building
Men and women squabble -
Moving chess pieces to
Make decisions that affect
Crises of lives and livelihoods,
One-upmanship the game of the day.

Meanwhile the black cloud grows,
And thunder begins to rumble.
Lightning flashes in the cloud.
A man comes out of the building -
Waving and crying triumphantly,
“We got what we wanted!”
And the thunder rolls, and brilliant
Bolts of lightning strike the ground.
The rains come, and the winds whip,
Tearing the shelter from those
Flinching helpless, beneath.

Jobs vanish; the sick have no succor.
Wall Street flails from the
Shock waves of decisions forged
At the last possible minute
By the heedless powers that be.
Reverberations circle the globe,
Shaking the foundations 
Of our integrity and credibility.
In the terrible ensuing storm,
Hopes for the future are dashed,
And Damocles is truly lost,
For the sword has fallen!

Premium Member Toms Travels

In a show of manic one-upmanship
With my wife saying, “Just get a grip.”
I planned an adventure to show I’m well travelled
The spoiler to that is the whole thing unravelled

I looked at the brochures and boy was I keen
Determined to find somewhere Tom hadn’t been
That man is a nomad, he never sits still
He just grabs a suitcase and travels at will

[At this point please lend me a bit of your time
for this advance warning of appalling rhyme]
My legs are so white that I ought to be sunning ’em
I’ll find somewhere warm that’s eluded Tom Cunningham

I made a quick sandwich with pickle from Branston
And then thought EUREKA…I’ll call Richard Branson
I sold a few organs and Gran’s silver spoon
And raised enough money to fly to the moon

He said he does orbits then back down to earth
A trip to the moon was more grief than it’s worth
I grabbed Branson’s beard and said “Listen to me,
you’re gonna help me outdo Mr C.”

Well, long story short, I arrived on old Luna
Tom might have planned it but I got there sooner
Then a little green man said, “Is Earth where you’re from?
When you get back home again… say ‘Hi’ to Tom.”
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Game of Pretence

Game of pretence, is played out everyday
Our authentic self, seems to have no say
As we go about through needless parlance
Social etiquette cause of dalliance
Oft saying yes, when we wish to say nay

Hypocrisy becoming our mainstay
Subterfuge as way of life, here to stay
Silencing gentle voice, of our conscience 
Game of pretence

Shifty eyes, lips that lie, thread of truth frays
One-upmanship our norm, the wayward way
Oh hermit! How will we pay our penance 
Having consigned our heart to decadence
How much longer will lower mind hold sway 
Game of pretence

16-February-2021

Open poetry 2 poetry contest
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
Form: Rondeau

Premium Member Ashtavakra Gita Verse 20:9

20.9
“Where is distraction, concentration, 
knowledge or delusion?
Where is joy or sorrow?
I am Stillness”

Verse revisited on 29-December-2022

 Let’s keep this verse simple
By resting thought forms nimble
Just as we look at any other object
The thought will arise, subside, eject
There being no identity doership
No games of one-upmanship
Awareness self-aware renews
Pulse of aliveness in myriad hues
In an aspect of embrace and release
Holding not onto the involuntary sneeze
Vaporised soul presence ever blissful
Beholds play of dream life beautiful 
Transcending sensory joy and pain
Mind-body cleansed from stain
Enabled by rapture of divine bliss
The here and now being all there is
Partaking of soma nectar bliss potion
Celebrating life as a splash in the ocean
One with That oneness, time too yields
To the omnipotent power God wields 
And so transformed as living light
Heightened is our soul’s delight
We dance as such and yet are still
Having surrendered fully to God’s will
In timeless time becoming the bliss flame 
We’re That that may be assigned no name
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member We Walk Alone

From birth to death, each of us walks alone,
in as a narrative we wish to feel,
thus as we embrace, release and atone,
we rely on God’s love and light to heal.
In a subject-object relationship,
we believe ourself to be feeble form
and engaged in games of one-upmanship,
earth life for most part, is a turbid storm.
We know not who we are and yet live on,
in pursuit of ephemeral desires
and so it continues, both praise and scorn,
until the day our exhausted heart tires.
Shifting horizons now hold no appeal,
somewhat diminished is our zest and zeal.

Somewhat diminished is our zest and zeal,
discovering our efforts were in vain,
upon which in altar of God we kneel,
praying love and light glows in heart again.
Recognising that we script not our fate,
shifting into silence, we become still,
making our heart once more, childlike and chaste,
that by grace divine, voids within may fill.
Having thus relinquished our thought flow crutch,
we surrender, melding head with our heart,
ingraining direct wisdom by soul’s touch,
mindfully choosing to add love to cart.
Emptiness then, is the way to begin;
cave of heart’s open, so we go therein.

Cave of heart’s open, so we go therein,
remaining aware with nary a care,
whereupon we feel magnetism plug-in,
cajoling our polarities to pair.
As a receptor, there’s nothing we do,
for to be truthful, there is no road map 
and each nuance felt is pristine and new,
drawing us to God by closing the gap.
We shout from the rooftops but no one hears,
unable to comprehend the bliss flame,
held in benign currents, God Himself steers,
revealing deep wisdom that has no name.
In a realm dual, in bondage to mind,
we know not the truth, because we are blind.

We know not the truth, because we are blind
but now having seen, with our inner eye,
we cognise God is wise, loving and kind,
known if we agree to let ego die.
We cling to identity, which is not,
in as it is merely a thought construct 
but on shifting to heart, as we all ought,
our false self dies, we see it self-destruct.
It is clear that although monks wish to share,
the wisdom sublime, they have so imbibed,
those who refuse to see, just cannot pair,
enslave by ego, which has always lied.
Harvest of grace is reaped, as of seeds sown;
from birth to death, each of us walks alone.

Premium Member Mind Block

Inspirations flow no more,
although we seek an encore,
an urge rooted in ego,
which we are loathe to forgo.

Habit patterns control us,
plateaus after peaks, nonplus,
for our yearning’s to expand,
as of restless heart’s demand.

Though to a tree, were once bound,
autumn leaves fall to the ground,
yet when it comes to ourself,
desires remain on the shelf.

Change is inevitable,
so let’s make our heart stable ~
vibrant, witness consciousness,
entwined with the That oneness.

It’s all about ownership,
mind game of one-upmanship.
Why then hanker for our muse,
amidst beauteous life’s hues?

29-May-2022
Form: Jueju

Premium Member Buller Boys

Beyond the imposing and the high iron gate
The picturesque setting of the Oxford University
Situates the hedonistic oriented Bullingdon Club
Founded more than 200 years ago.

The socially exclusive students get the invitation
To join the Club as its elite members
Many of whom have attained prominence
And position of power in Britain’s political arena.

The ill-famed Club is known for 
Its wealthy members and their notorious behavior
Partaking in the boisterous rituals such as
Vandalizing restaurants and students’ rooms.

The Club’s colors are sky blue and shining ivory
Seen on the tailcoats the members wear
For the annual dinner where the drunken revelers
Greet each other chanting “buller, buller, buller”.

The Club has survived the roller-coaster ride
Lurching between frequent recruitment crises
And nearly facing the shut down
But the buller has a way of bouncing back.

The distinctiveness of its haughty members 
Reflected in their one-upmanship attitude
Took them to eminence along the tough tracks
The outside world is skeptic about their dubious traits. 

____________

April 7, 2023
Contest : Bullingdon Boys
Spoinsored by : Joe Maverick

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