Long Option Poems
Long Option Poems. Below are the most popular long Option by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Option poems by poem length and keyword.
Returning home, you walk inside,
Awaken the olfactory.
There, resting on the countertop
Are cookies baked for all to see.
Your mind leaps to the obvious:
The signs all tell a story clear.
No baker did assemble these;
‘Twas happenstance that put them here.
Although no other evidence
Is satisfying in the whole,
The flour spilled from the canister;
An earthquake dumped it in the bowl.
Although we were at first confused,
We understand the eggs as well:
They teleported from the fridge,
Just yolks and whites, without the shell.
The gravitation of the moon
Combined with a solar eclipse
May have opened up a bag,
Contributed the chocolate chips.
An aftershock of magnitude
Somewhere between a five and six
Quite possibly could agitate,
Produce a firm dough from the mix.
The fluctuations in the lines
Of magnetism from the poles
Could open up the oven doors
And set the proper heat controls.
Although this last may seem a stretch,
Our statistician ascertained
A bird could grab some dough like eggs,
Drop on the pans, and then again.
The only step that would be left:
A thunderstorm with static spark
To heat those cookies up just right,
Awaiting your return at dark.
I know the chance of this is small,
But we’ll not dwell, no, mum’s the word.
What other option is there now?
This talk of bakers is absurd…
So Dog Gone Tired Today...
May 20th, 2021
Like a fly without his/her buzz
even popping a guarana (caffeine) does
not shake the feeling
like brain covered with fuzz
no matter how hard I try eyelids claps
shut nor how many hours of sleep elapse
offers nary reprieve folds
welded tightly shut
feel like they weigh
much as a ton mud covered flaps,
thus thought to summon
meager energy reserves perhaps
generating poetic lines
interrupted by taking constant naps
but no matter eyelids
weigh heavy as a ton steel traps
narcolepsy not ruled out since
tired body struggles as if gasping for air,
yet such fatigued state uncommon for me,
though bothersome to grin and bear
this bout of sleepiness, where this
white knight chess sleeps
trouble free aye declare
quality deep rapid eye
movement marked noticed
since medication taken
to treat debilitating anxiety e'er
concomitant panic attacks, where psyche
got rent asunder send
ding this atheist to hell
episodes pained me
forked flaming tongues flare
ling, immobilizing, paralyzing
and stinging entire body,
hence methinks primary cerebral gear
and cog glommed
like a drain clogged with hair
nonetheless, no alarmist worry,
nor "worst case scenarios" betray
my ordinarily mellow emotional state,
thus any task I must delay
thoughts unstoppably captivated
by snoozing upon
a bed of freshly mown hay,
and then hours later
diminishing fatigue in catchy rye
ming verse aye re: lay
relishing being awake,
the mine true valued self I kin portray
best to surrender whereby
unfettered invisible manacle doth yoke
mine body electric unresponsive, yet woke
to myriad stuff dreams get made
ashen faced flesh impossible mission
to energize (think cattle prod) futile stoke,
thus methinks eternal sleep only option,
whereby yours truly only request do not provoke
nor poke
the bear, but only I make exception for
Little Red Riding Hood,
cuz she ranks as innocent young female folk.
The hangman was a righteous man who took his duty gravely
The man condemned, with bended head moved hesitant yet bravely
Atop the stair they took their place to face the crowd there gawking
The hangman sternly cleared his throat and then commenced to talking
“The importance of democracy cannot be overstated
And every man must have his say this cannot be debated
We need the chance to make a choice in how our lives are guided
A vote that gives a measure how our future is decided”
“Here on my left I have a rope that’s short and will not tangle
The journey’s quick but at the end you’ll linger there and dangle
But on my right’s a rope that’s long, admittedly it’s rougher
The fall will last a little more, at least you will not suffer”
“So make your choice”, the hangman cried “I wait upon your pleasure.”
The hangman turned and crossed his arms in calm, contented leisure
The prisoner turned to the crowd a portrait of exhaustion
Cried out “What use to me, my friends, of such a hopeless option?”
“Democracy’s a sham!” he said and slowly shook his head
“It doesn’t matter which I choose, with either one … I’m dead.”
June 7, 2018
“The Path towards REMEMBERING is not for the weak. It is priceless. Move inwards, without faltering & know that you are held.” Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
journey within is strewn with jagged edges
and jewels
both can lead to detours
walking a straight and narrow path one
traverses own jungle untamed
lame sometimes becomes our resolve
not to forge ahead beyond crags or rags
is not an option once undertaking begins
screams may merge with songs or dreams
cream alongside starvation or salvation
a luminous beckoning lighthouse at end of tedium slogs hold us steady
often makes us heady
in solitude with faith we need make no haste
knowingness with Heart’s compass surely
keeps us safe
neither hazard or hurdle makes us curdle
Soul the master of destined fate never late
to turn cherished key into jewelled Home
within is majestic prize to win
Friends do not laugh at me
Walking barefooted to school
It is not an option to choose
Only that they have no pride in me
Friends don't look down on me
Even if I am wearing these tattered clothes
We are equally the same this proof I can give it to you
Let's wait for a test and solve our differences
Friends bear with me -though
If I keep borrowing your pens
Don't even dare to ask me
When shall I buy my own?
Friends if you see me begging in town
I am not really proud at it
I really hate myself to dip into your parents' pocket
And being helpless and being so lazy
Friends if you see me doing a piece of work
That does not even seems to suit me
I really have nothing to do
I have to, no matter what it takes
Friends I envy you for borne from humans
I mean it and I advise you not to be so rude
Don't ask me where are my aliens
I tell you they are brainless humans so similar though
They are not locked in the wooden box down there
They are still roaming on this planet so free
But they have nothing to do with me
They don't really understand how I existed
They say I am a sudden stranger
A wit of their mistempered little joys
But no burning passion just a pleasure
Who even told me to rush to my freedom?
Buy I have passion I have a goal
I mean I really have a dream
To soar into the sky
And see the world beyond
I pray to heavens everyday
To keep them both -though
To witness our destined fate
I mean to see my bad luck turning around
time …
takes no hostages
but for those let with dearest blood
if there IS such a thing as chaos
it is in the scrambled madness
that intent, circumstance, fate, and impulse
leaves upon our plate …
we trade the futures of our youth
for the memories of age …
the dearest cost -
each moment, each instant -
given without a thought of how
incredibly precious it is
how valuable its utilization …
and it’s amidst that casualty that we
lose sight of the little things
the in-between happenings that become
the thread of our lives -
that gold braid that binds all we do and
think and feel and find
to our desires and achievements
and sews the seam of
existence, grace and hope …
yet …
we all have the option
(and it is a self-conscious choice)
to not accept time’s tariffs -
to appreciate a moment with the
reverence it’s due
and not assess our worth by accomplishment
but rather how fully we embrace the now
and the only true lasting, timeless
treasure …
love.
I have no authority to tell anyone what to do or say.
It's up to each of us to chose which way will be okay.
But there's a fork in the road ahead; so chose without delay.
When chaos and war start to rule the day,
Very little will matter if we have lost our way.
When mortals refuse to talk, the only option is to walk.
We have longed for peace, but the hate refused to cease.
The East built a wall to keep people in, but eventually it did fall.
The West built towers tall, they too did fall before our eyes one and all.
If together we do not stand, divided we all will die all over this great land.
Our destiny is in our hands, but I pray we are not too blind to understand.
Let's depend on God and not political men whose foundations are weak and thin.
090321PS
Failing once, twice or more should be called trying
Because it takes a few times to wholly grip a lesson depending
On the individuals and their experiences
Part of living is to grasp all types of classes and courses
Which can lead to eventual success
When we fail once, we somehow win something
We reach a different or higher level, a different class
Failing must not be on the projector
Failing must not be on the monitor
Failing is when one is gone, dead, kaput and no more
When one either flees or is kicked out of the door
As long as life exists
One must fight hard, strive and persist
To pass the tests in order to be included on the winners’ list
Through making serious sacrifices or to kill the ugly beasts
Of idleness, dullness, procrastination and laziness
We must wake up, get up, stand up and be ready to rumble
At the same time, we must be insightful, clever, tough and humble
Failure stands far from any solution
Failure can never be an option
Winning is about doing positive actions
Winning is about accepting and willing to fall
To get up a few times and to walk straight, strong and tall
To defy gravity and to eventually be among the constellations.
Copyright © August 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Come, my son, my daughter, let’s get killed,
Fighting for our beloved nation…!
They, under bribes, get applications filled,
Do not mind! They get better salary-transaction!
My officers do not get killed:
I am their negotiation...!
Come, My son, my daughter, let’s get killed,
Fighting for our beloved nation…!
=====
===
Who is the mother?
Who is the father of this nation?
What option have been left with one another,
Than just a negotiation…!
Come, yet, let us get killed,
Fighting for our beloved nation;
Come, my son, my daughter, let’s get killed,
Fighting for our beloved nation…!
09 October 2022
Sphinx applied for a job at Duel Tool Instrument Manufacturing.
During his first days he was assigned four breaks and lunch at
Noon which lasted for 45 minutes.His work days would be four
days a week with $21.00 an hour. The company is opened seven
days a week Eight hour shifts could be divided by seven or four
Days straight with the company having the option of calling him
In for overtime which could be no more than five hour shifts with
A company dinner plan on weekends.The dinner plan would reduce
His pay by 12%.
Seven weeks into his beginning the company asked him to take his
Lunch at 11:00.They used a camera to monitor the lunch room.
At the end of the first week the manager returned him to the noon
Lunch schedule He noticed his portion size was reduced and the company
asked him to take less time for lunch and gave him a fifteen minutes break
To compensate the time. This is called a what?
A. Pain in the a$s shedule
B. A monitored mangament shedule
C. A Notified shedule
D. A camera monitored shedule.
That Bouis can sing ya'll type of deal