Long Opposing Poems
Long Opposing Poems. Below are the most popular long Opposing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Opposing poems by poem length and keyword.
Though (supposedly) only
the good die young, urn holding
cremated ashes a mere cup
full, every last man standing falls,
cuz nobody else
escapes un pup
yule lore blitzkrieg,
or aging gracefully,
the unavoidable eventual fate,
(mortal fateful demise),
sans the remaining unsung
anonymous peoples meet up
with the grim reaper,
who will ineluctably disrupt
the carryings on
with each and every individual
(non plus ultra all other
life forms as well)
gradually or with abrupt,
and unannounced debut
scythe lent lee appearing
to whisk away the
honest and/or corrupt
whether taking their
first meal of the day,
and/or last sup
per, perhaps sitting quietly,
when body electric
amp pare rent lee
receives ohm
my word fatal invite,
whereat permanent shocking
quiescence doth, sans
stealth maneuver erupt
tragically, indiscriminately,
and blithely
mowing down innocent civilians,
and/or training fate squarely
upon heads of soldiers
life during wartime,
where opposing armies regale
while marching men go hup...
to three fore (akin
to a story field day),
winning booby prize, viz
counting on qua,
asper winning lottery
and/or Stanley Cup
major blood bath rendered
significant counting coup
whereat each opposing fighting
force figuratively doth slew
the other, analogously dost defeat
making mince meat
re: as uniformed brigades in heat
of wanton killing
fields sliced minced,
chopped nada so vary neat,
via stealth unable dupe, nor cheat
death be not proud,
et cetera, nonetheless,
grimly forced to greet
a bonanza coup won,
only tubby beat
tin to pulp by adept
skull and excellent fleet
of foot (top
notch crafted) sweet
(albeit) temporary victory
tasting said treat
assailing, bruiting , and/or
weathering stance versus
alternating between defensive
and/or offensive
use of cross bones,
in a hail of bullets
instantaneously didst greet
fast and furious i.e. suffering
deadly raking har row
ring slaughter, an entire
phalanx gone, where
(metaphorical terrible swift sword)
no uniformed fighter
can never call retreat.
THEY WERE NOT ADMIRED, THEY WERE HARDLY EVEN LIKED, THEY REFRAMED FROM COMMENT DUE TO THEIR DISPOSITION, ALLOWING
SOMEONE WITH A GREATER DISPOSITION TO BE IN CONTROLL. mONITERING
THEIR ABLITIES WOULD BE EASY AS THESE MEN WERE ADVANCE IN THEIR TRAINING. THEIR WORKS WERE OF THE TEACHINS OF "GEM FULLA" (WORLD FAMOUS SUBMITION GRAPPLER. ONCE KNOW IN THEIR NATIVE COSTA RICA AS
U-NEW, AND U-OLE, THEY HAD REIGNED SUPREME, UNTIL "THE MEN FROM DAFFA" CAME TO THEIR TERRITORY, AND MADE COMPANY MEN OUTTA FREELANCERS. THEY DEFEATED THE TWO IN A "COMMONGROUND- STANDOFF"( A TWO OUT OF THREE FALL SUBMITION MATCH) THEY WERE DEPOSSED BY THE PROMOTION, AND SHAMED BY THEIR PEERS, THOSE WHO SUGGESTED, THE TWO TO WEAR MASK, IN LIGHT OF THEIR SHAME. MONTHS LATER, WHEN THEY HAD REBOUNDED TO RECOVER, THEY HAD WON 25 OUT OF 33 MATCHES, AND HAD POSITIONED THEMSELVES FOR A CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE MATCH. THERE LUCK EVEN HAD THEM TO FIND FORTUNE IN MEXICO, WERE THEY BECAME CHAMPIONS NATIONAL, AND PRIMO JAPAN'S TOP-DRAW CHAMPIONS, BY DEFEATING THE LEGENDARY TEAM OF BRICE BULLSTRONG AND PANK PRICHARD. ONCE AGAIN THEY WERE ON TOP OF THE HILL WHEN THEY FOUND THEMSELVES COSTA RICAN TAG CHAMPIONS VIA, A NO-CONTEST STIPULATION IN THE CHAMPIONS CONTRACT, WHEN THE CHAMPIONS REFUSED TO DEFEND THE TITLE THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITY NAMED THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDERS THE NEW CHAMPIONS, ONCE THE TITLES WERE STRIPPED FROM THE CHAMPIONS,U-OLE, PULLED THE MASKED LUCHADOR INTO THE RING AND PINNED HIM, THIS CEMENTED THE REIGN, AND EVEN THE LOSSED CHAMPIONS GAVE CONGRADES TO THE NEW CHAMPIONS.
WE DON'T KNOW IF IT'S TRUE OR NOT, BUT THE APPEARANCE OF A NEW TEAM IN THE HIGHLY POPULAR WORLD BRAND RASSLIN, COMPANY NAMED THE DUO NUMBER FOUR IN THEIR INTERNATIONAL SERIES ( A TAGTEAM TOURNAMENT) BUT THE OPPOSING SIDE HAD A NEW TAGTEAM NAMED " RIVERRATTS" (PANINI PRESTON ANDAUX AMANDES ) WHO RESEMBLED THE COSTA RICAIN DUO. WORLD REKNBOWNED GRAPPLER, CUSSIN PAGE, CALLED OUT BOTH TEAMS TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SITUATION, BUT ONE TEAM DESIDED TO JOKE AROUND, AND SENT OUT TWO WOMEN DRESSED AS MEN IN MASKED TO ANWSER THE CHALLENGE. FORTUNATLY FOR THE FANS THE RIVERRATS RECORDED THE ANWSER TO THE CHALLENGE EALIER, THEY ACSEPTED THE CHALLENGE, AND THE MATCH WAS MADE FOR HOUSE SHOW PRIOR TO THE MAINEVENT TELEVISION EVENT. WE DON'T KNOW WHO THESE GUY'S ARE BUT WE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT THESE PEOPLE HAVE TO SAY,
*My beloved Oval, I fear that my words fall short of what I am feeling in my heart. May you accept these few lines of love as my best effort of expressing my concern for you. I have heard much about you, but I have yet to visit and meet you in person. The pictures of you are rather striking and stunning.
It was during the 90's that I first became gravely concerned about what seemed to me, 'a tarnishing' of your office. Circumstances surrounding your occupants caused a great deal of weeping in my soul. It appeared as if the dark clouds of contamination were setting over you, and determined to drive out the awe and aromatic presence of your enduring reverence. Nevertheless, like the giant I always believed you to be, you came roaring back to a place of renown in the early 2000's. And Oval, it was so good to have you back. A new leader so deserving of your atmosphere took great lengths to restore the sacredness that was so rightfully due. I tell you Oval, the reality of your presence and power is so pervasive that it extends far beyond your palatial walls. For centuries you have adorned the shoulders of presidents in attire befitting their sacred trust.
Again, I stand aghast that I am observing a cloud of low regard for your office. Oval, this concern is not about presidents. More than 40 presidents have sat in your room, but you are still here. Presently, you are the one I am concerned about. It's my duty to speak up for you at this "high tide" of divisiveness.
Oval, in closing, there are many forces parading through our country; and it appears that these opposing forces are conspiring for a 'perfect storm'. Be advised and encouraged that much prayer is also invading the air waves. I see indications that not only shall we prevail and survive, but we shall also thrive because of God's Good Graces and His magnanimous mercies.
09292017 PS Contest, Early October Standard, Brain Strand Personification Form *Oval: The Oval Office in The White House
I stood there one day
With my feet in the sand
Water to my waist
And hands spread around
The fish, all swam close
And swept against me
My fingers they nibbled
I felt so much glee
Nature’s beauty at best
When you feel all at one
When with wild you connect
It’s like touching the sun
Went there each day
To swim with the fish
Love that feeling I get
When my legs they do kiss
Then one day I met Carol,
She was feeding them all
Four years she said now
And took a roll call
She showed me the babies
And thousand there were
All growing and healthy
In this violent world
She shared with me bread
So I could feed them too
And I love her for that
I feel so in tune
She told me of trouble
With this one and that
Not wanting her feeding
Those fish where we’ve at
One friend he told me
A petition being signed
Opposing the feeding
Of our fish friends this time
I can not believe it
Can not understand
This world in such shortage
Few fish in our times
And here is someone
Heart big as can be
Doing something for this world
So good, as I see
One day she did ask me
If fish I could feed
Cause she could not make it
Was busy as a bee
Was happy to do that
Cause I love to feed them
And next morning was there
Bright, early and free
Those people I spoke about
Where so rude to me
They shouted, took photos,
Tried to intimidate me
I wonder at those people
In this world that were in
Where is their goodness
Hearts hard as can be
One day Carol, she told me
Abuse they did cause
They scattered her bread
All over the shore
What’s wrong with these people?
I can only ask
We are feeding some fish
There’s no harm in us
This world that we long for
Of peace and harmony
Of getting along
And having nature be free
How will we ever find it?
When as you can see
There are people out there
Who scream - commit perjury?
Shame on you people
We are doing no harm
Just feeding some fish
Just let us be calm
And we hope that you fishes
All grow up to fill
These oceans of ours
With food for our plead
I want for my children
And those next in line
To know what a fish is
In all ages of time
There is so many out there
Who kill and destroy
Who maim native animals
And shamelessly slaughter
So thank you dear Carol
For what you have done
For love you have given
To fishes all in one
Autumn though of herself as a kind soul,
and she took great pride in her compassion,
she believed things could be made perfect,
and her voting reflected this fashion.
She was to see that the wealth was shared,
and that people were nice in their words,
since so few out there ever recognized
how what they said could offend and disturb.
If folks would only learn some basic tact
then everything would run more smoothly,
and she was so glad to help elect leaders
who would take a strong stand against ‘hate speech.’
One day she saw on social media
a report about a conspiracy man
who liked to breath fire when he spoke his mind,
so the tech giants all had him banned.
But she didn’t think that much about it,
she’d never liked that fellow anyway,
so she shrugged it off as unimportant,
and mindlessly went about her day.
A month later she saw some new footage
of men’s right activists under attack,
for trying to change the family courts
they were set upon by hoodlums in black.
But Autumn did not care much for their cause,
opposing women was beyond the pale,
why listen to fools who had never been told
that the future ‘belonged to females?’
A year after that a church made the news
when it refused to marry two men,
the pastor tried to explain his reasons,
but ‘Anti-fascists’ just threw rocks at him.
Autumn just shook her head at the scene,
had not the pastor heard of the new laws?
Who was he to claim that he knew the truth?
To exclude folks on the word of his ‘God?’
Three months later, in campaign season,
a brash man roused the crowds with his rants,
said all sorts of things she found horrible,
it was really getting out of hand.
And when the networks block out all his ads,
and refused to cover his rallies,
Autumn felt that peace had been restored,
there were ‘standards’ to democracy.
Then a year later a new judge declared
that ‘hateful words’ were not protected,
Autumn was glad, progress would be made!
She eagerly waited for what lay ahead…
Over the next two years many people
ran afoul of this new ‘moral code,’
it started with fines, then came prison time,
hundreds, then thousands, to the jails did go.
Autumn started to feel a bit uneasy
at all the chaos that it had caused,
but every change came with some trial,
and those people had broken the laws...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Two opposing warring factions, meet upon the AstroTurf
Battlefield, in the sporting arena of Victory or agony’s defeated,
Warriors of the pigs skinned javelin, tackle each other at the
White lines of collisions honor, marked by the numbered banners
Of the fifty yard kick off point, yielding unto the pillars of the
Goal post of champions!
In the heat of battle these heroes of gladiatorial games, called
The NFL, thrill and chill their fans to the inner bones of the
True sportsman living within all us, born in this great nation,
Known as the U.S.A.
In this victorious field of dreams, no illusionary visions exist,
For these powerhouse gentlemen, gain each footings sacred
Ground by athletic skill and sheer raw brawn!
To the meek goes the booing of the fumble, to the strong
The million dollar playoff championship, cheered on by their
Ever loyal crowds of adoring fans, whom are enthroned by
This sport of endurance and strength of will!
In this modern coliseum of champions, no touch down goes
Without a standing ovation, or Styrofoam’s thumps up signal
Of approval, in these concrete surroundings this is truly a time
Honored sport of traditions, to be remembered in the
Historical records of the future as a classical game,
To challenge the strongest of athletes!
Golden are the rings given as victory’s insignias,
But in the hearts of the players and their loyal fans,
The price of the championship game is worth the cost
Of every single ounce of sweat and exaggeration, shown
On this epic field of battle!
As the crowds roar, with excitements thrilling kick offs
Point of the triumphant, field goal point scoring, their
Human wave of appreciation, is set at the release level
Of thousands!
In the homes of America the volume levels of the cheering
Is off the ratio scales charts, as chairs go flying backwards,
And Bowls of snacks explode everywhere, for the winning
Play has just been committed, and the championship team
Takes the final center field of the victorious!
Hurray for the great sport known as football,
The American sport of champions has again earned
Another season of splendor in the turf war of victories,
Behold our favorite pastime, may this pigskin colors never fade,
As our flag shall forever wave, for this is truly the great
American sport of athletic skill personified!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
"Gardener Of Love"
I'm not rich with money
And be, I never will
For it's not a path I've chosen
Nor in my garden, till.
Other things matter most
And always will to me,
Things born of Love
Our eyes can never see.
Only a humble heart
Can in their heart sow
The seeds producing flowers
Of Love to then only grow.
There is no room for ego;
There is no room for hate,
Nor for greed and selfishness,
With Love inside a garden's gate.
When we plant the seeds of Love,
It's a priceless, worthy toil,
Since all opposing weeds
Are then banished from our soil.
All the weeds of traits
Upon which the ego feeds,
Will have nowhere to germinate,
Where Love is all that breeds.
As with any garden growing,
There's a need for rays of sun,
But too, there must be rain
For growing to be done.
As better gardeners we become,
We learn that toil and pain
We must endure and overcome,
If we hope to harvest gain.
When we fertilize with kindness,
With compassion and with care,
With empathy and forgiveness,
We'll have lots of Love to share.
As our garden grows in riches
That can't be by money bought,
Only those with weedy gardens will
Resent us for what they haven't got.
Blessings we tend to overlook
And not realised, hence, before,
Love gives us the vision to see
How blessed we are and more.
Then for our many blessings,
With gratitude, we garnish
Our garden with more beauty,
To polish, instead of tarnish.
In the process of our growing
We learn what matters most,
That humility and modesty
Trumps ego within us to host.
We learn money and possessions
Are at best barely secondary
And cultivating traits of Love
Are foremost, first, and primary.
We learn that contentment
And a peaceful state of mind,
Brings happiness and joy
That by money we can't find.
We learn that our wants
Become then less and less;
As long as our needs are met,
Our life reaps happiness.
When our needs are met
Is when we have enough;
Is when we feel contentment,
With no want for other stuff.
I'm not rich with money
And be, I never will
But my garden's rich with Love,
Since Love I choose to till.
I'm not rich with money;
It matters not to me,
For I'm a Gardener Of Love,
As God wants me to be.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-09-28 11:48:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
In quiet, space breaks down into insight.
Opposing the edge amidst deceit and blight.
Imperceptible resonation is reflected back.
On a hunch, or at the stroke of night track.
A lethal tree is still close in the woodlands.
The spirit was trailing on the kist of the tree.
At first, kids looked to chip with their hands.
Seep into the night in a ruddy shrunken spree.
I wake up early to the Greek myth of Zeus.
A vessel drifting on the Dal Lake in Udaipur.
The sound of a woman sobbing in sadness.
Over calm green oceans, echoes in Jupiter.
She was performing in a velvety baritone.
Pain in the midst of the tranquility of dawn.
Endeavoring to perform the icy top in June.
Mountains that frame the Kilimanjaro awn.
Ghastly calamities smash and deeply devastate.
I rightly fear that wide-open harm didn't recover.
You can expect the best, yet I will never hesitate.
My dear life depends on your choice; kindly usher.
I regularly defied to bid someone to criticize.
The one-sided truth was dazzling blindness.
My space was thwarted in the related size.
I felt as if somebody led a ruin process.
Sacredness to which humankind might relate,
With the moon sitting on edge of the world.
Mountains meet to uncover the ornate.
Smiling and radiating, from high observed.
There are times when I can feel the crests fly.
I'm being held down as my blood is drained.
Brain scars result from ruined sight and sway.
When I perish, a chasm arises in my mind.
A lean, edge-on which rests one's optimism.
Please be cautious of steps you split wide open.
In fate, a walk on shells will be optimum.
Shift much fatal shooting and be woken.
I minded my name being said in a whisper.
I was adducible of a hand tapping my forearm.
When I swung around to direct a look closer,
I found myself alone and aching for smarm.
How might a heart that dorsum and delicate,
Have the sway to bear a vast part desolate.
But we're apt despite our humble eyesight.
To discover the earth and the vast infinite.
The monstrosity of the encompassing world.
Encompassed by both the sight and the sound.
Emotions energize the heart within the darkness.
Eyes that can consistently scan such elegance.
1st Place Contest Winner.
Written: June 01, 2022
This Or That, Vol 12 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
THE DALLAS COWBOYS
Can you not hear the rumblings of that distant herd coming,
The loud thundering of destiny’s champions crossing, the NFL
Field of dreams, beware the rampaging lightening team known
As the Dallas Cowboys, for they are the hail storms victorous
Breed, the eye of the hurricane riders, searching for their
Well-deserved trophy of fortunes honor!
Remove your cowboy’s hats of respect unto them, ladies
Curtsy with reverences motion, for these athletes are
Endurance’s best, and they shall overcome against
Any opposing finest challengers, these rangers of the
Old western traditions, that carry this country’s time
Honored name of the cowboy to the ultimate extreme,
Of skill and strength’s dexterity!
Dallas all plain drifters of purity’s valor, head to head
No bull horns about it, these are the champions of the
Gladiatorial games in the world of sportsmanship!
Yielding unto no oppositions combatants, these warriors
Hold their ground with distinctions sheer magnificence!
Let those world famous cheerleaders scream with every
Field goal achieved, for these beauties know that no
Other team in footballs annals will score, to the level
Of these good old boys, named by fame's hall of records,
The famous Dallas Cowboys, heehaw and God bless hum!
Now listen you city slicking team of sports hall of fameing
Seekers, you’d better go back to your home fields of
Advantages, for hear in this lone star state, we take no
Prisoners, and show no mercy to out lander's!
Here in the ALAMO state of freedoms calling,
We remember our heritage standing tall and
Proud against all odds, blazoned in bullets
Historical legends, our grand team barres
The name of fore-barriers proudly, those
Pioneer’s men known, as the all American
Cowboys!
These six-shooters whom rode the die hard tails,
Across a new world creating a country of freedom,
Where only the tumble-weeds rolled, and desert dust,
Coached a man’s thirst almost to madness!
Now in traditions sport of men, a new team of desperado’s,
Threatens this lone star state, but have no fear my fellow
Texans for our Dallas Cowboys will send them packing,
With a good old boy’s field goals smacking, so I’ll cheer
Them on, waving my hat in the evening air, yelling heehaw,
Go get hum boys!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
FOR LINDA THE DESTROYER
ROCK ON SISTER POET
Our lives are not immune to the impact of time,
nor is our mind between the tensions of love and hate.
That's why I curse this wanderlust heart -
still searching for that wandering star.
without a guide - without a love to call my own.
I try not to look back, but sometimes certain scents,
remind me of things that saw me as a minority.
A summer heart misplaced in winter's wickedness,
a child frozen in the passages of a stolen childhood.
Ingredients of my life are a juxtaposition of flavours,
finding purity among diseased hearts,
fighting against principles of corrupt minds
and I hurt nobody - until they pushed me,
it was never about the physical - but the mental.
Silence is different in adolescence -
suppressed into a protective bubble,
you reject the harshness of existence.
My small hands could not hold the burdens,
so I was mute as demons slayed my father,
his anger drowning my brothers into darkness.
Tears of my mother, dehydrated my soul,
so I grew like a tree with broken branches -
sometimes naked, sometimes an abundance of green.
Even in an obscure world of nightmares,
my heart was a light bulb, full of dreams -
but misplaced in a place of misunderstanding.
I adopted silence in the violence,
because I struggled with reality's fabrications.
Fatherless,
I found acceptance in the war on the streets,
where love was poison, but hate brought prosperity.
Only surviving due to my father's name,
yet I knew it was an unwinnable game.
My hands were pacifying guns,
so I learned to exist without bullets.
I was a black sheep in a strange white herd,
opposing shepherds who couldn't tolerate me.
A clean soul in a dirty social order -
a peaceful heart seeking a place to call home.
Silence is a choice in adulthood.
I used to ignore the pain from unhealed wounds,
but today the inner child screams and shouts,
because oppressors can no longer mute my tongue.
Death taught me not to be bitter,
stubborn fingers how to bleed ink onto paper -
showing compassion in an ugly world.
If life was so simple, we wouldn't look at it differently.
Our perceptions are based on what we have learned,
what was, what is to come and what we search for.
Where you end up depends on how you deal with the past.