Long Ordinate Poems
Long Ordinate Poems. Below are the most popular long Ordinate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ordinate poems by poem length and keyword.
My dear, I have only just woken up
and opened the refrigerator
to take out
some joys, some sorrows, and a few blessings.
I wrote a song
and fed it birthday-cake.
The fennel flowers have remained just the same,
only the chair kept beside the window
does not want to sit there anymore.
And on it, last night’s moon
has folded away its white shirt.
I picked it up,
shook it gently,
and a few old afternoons
came tumbling down.
Then I went out to the balcony
and saw
an ant, very slowly,
changing the co-ordinate of my home.
I said nothing to it.
These days, those who have to leave,
on their way out,
should not be called back.
The fennel flowers have remained just the same.
Mother
Insult a King berate a queen
Even a president in between
Be foolish and ignorant if you must
But to attack a woman is quite simply unjust
Study the moon study the stars
And soon the interest will fade
Why not study a woman a lady
She’s fearfully and wonderfully made
With hands that are strong and gentle
From doing chores that’s never done
Her hair grey too early from too many hours in the sun
Lots of hard times it shows in her eyes
Tongue sharp when needed with words oh so wise
Exquisite poems about world leaders penned
But today it’s about my mum my friend
Her love her life forever in my mind etched
My humble tribute to her, lived not fetched
She is the favoured head of the clan
Still arrange co-ordinate and meticulously plan
She embodies all that is faithful and true
Comes July this year she’ll be ninety two
ODE TO ODES ®
Patterns of raindrops on my windowsills
And a rivalry with the scorching sun
Ordinate and baste me an idea
Light filters through the raindrops
Weary wind pluck me a leaf
Cascading down on the patched pavements
Breakdancing of leaves swirling
Sour and dove into the windy music
Sojourning on a brain pulsing quest
Thunders brought me shivers
And slice the sky and the rain
The cold chill poked me
Like the soft tread of a child's feet after a bath
Resort to my noble comfort
As I broil a memory
To marinate a poem.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2014
Gluggy margarine marine grips keels
Apex sun spreads sickly circle of lard
Plugged lungs, gust momentum marred
Strait elongates co-ordinate, pace killed
Gliding knife grease fixed current kestrels
Impotent motor pendulums drowsy matelot
Vacating tranquillity served seas slow
Exoteric tampers spatula flat vapid vessel
Crusading armada cruise aquatic canyon
Rigid crucifix mast meanders evangelical
Illusive land sinks split quills, sodalite inkwell
Top-gallant swallowed, whale snack plankton
Inert surrender line honours, hundred strong
Quelled by existence Earth centric
Universe of solar centre offensive
Encourages complacent latent symposium
Rigging ties tradition to methods regaled
Order drifts on brittle fine line filament
Oceanic only planet confirms familiar
Moribund remains phobic, slick oil sailed
18th February
Fear of Anarchy
GAPS GIVE CRITIQUE ROOM
If I ever meet depression in the physical form
I will inflict more damage than a biblical storm.
Invading my mind like satanic parasites,
feasting on my happiness bite after bite.
I'm hating myself for the person I've become,
I'm helpless to it, pathetic weak and dumb.
Thwarted and fallen, appallingly unproductive.
The torment insurgence transforms me destructive.
I'm useless and failing, increasingly alien,
these aint excuses, it's depression I'm wailing.
I'm left handed, right handed, ADHD,
depression, self loathing and anxiety.
My ambition went missing with drive and dreams,
my confidence in submission to doubt that gleams,
these parasites co-ordinate as an efficient team.
My one weapon is hope, and hope is supreme.
7/6/2019
is the tendency of the reddish sunshine
to become drenched some more
let us hear
what the milky-way seamed by pins
says
and it’s you
how much can you be able to read
the venation of the Barringtonia acutangula
can you touch the season of making apples
in the aquarium
the empty bottles without any co-ordinate
that shoulder with endless grief
the hands of the wall-clocks
in a sudden depression
they’re also making crowd
at the beauty parlour
you have promised someday
to present a flower-vase to display some drops of blood
in the circled face
do you remember it
you haven’t floated that turnip
till now
here the month of trumpet-flower
covers everything
with reedy grass
with the festival of colours of the white horses
the new leaves of bananas become associated
the total dipavali rows
along the evening-balcony
taking it as daylight
will any bird fly towards it
then send a walkman
for the bamboo plants
you must go today
in search of the source
of the hand-woven lamp-post
from the pitcher-worship to the kantha-stitch
it is a very large
twelve-horned deer
the mango-marrow
demands more land
demands more kingfisher
the breath of the Ravenala
touches the chicks of the black-pepper
in every evening
the flood that tears the button
touches the bowstring
that passes through the centre of magnolia
It helps to be blessed with interior lines.
While your enemy struggles to co-ordinate,
Your units will be able to shift easily
To provide mutual support where needed.
It helps that the enemy’s supply train
Will become its Achilles’ Heel.
Draw them on with deceptive tactics
And make their time in country hard.
It helps to be fighting on familiar ground.
Like playing war in your own backyard.
Change all the road signs and jam GPS.
Hit-and-run is the plan of the day.
It helps that the world sees your courage
And applauds your will to resist.
The dictator’s boot will get polished for sure
When it’s finally shoved up his ass.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
QUINTUS FABIUS MAXIMUS, CUNCTATOR
Heaven's (to Betsy) dis allow
wing danger fields vow
wing to protect and bless
beasts and children – endow
wing inadequate livingsocial
egads, fore-fend, now
a days such simultaneous show
whirring, or bath,
asper in above - flow
whir a sad comment
aery on humanity,
when one cannot,
but be faulted bestow
wing unforgettable sibling
camaraderie making
a splash together -
holy cow
"big brother" watching quickly
contacted and how,
hastening to doorstep
child welfare pow
were fully advocating
(nee demanding)
legal custodian to bow
with demands...,or else...
get locked up in tow
handcuffed if in sub
ordinate or cause row
dee ness regard
ding custody of
minor, no go
even though dependents
only freshly crow
wing out of toddler
call robin hood,
to help post bail
necessitating scraping dough
such nonchalant
activity, would grow
into flagrant sexual abuse know
tub bull lee i.e. pedophilia poe
tent shill strongly predicted,
especially ho...ho...ho
Christmas holidays,
where queen tush
scent shill average Don Joe
Jacob Jingleheimer
Schmidt sits on Santa's lap,
(a veritable stranger),
this practice oddly enough
acceptable to status quo
ordinarily kids
should think "whoa"
upon being accosted, confronted,
detained...and NOT slow
to run the other way pronto!
Famous Last Line
I once knew a poet named Anisha
She wrote poems sipping Mimosa.
She did not care for critics
But she loved Mathematics.
She solved sums on ordinate-abscissa.
She solved sums on ordinate – abscissa,
calculated Logarithms-Mantissa.
She loved Literature
Maths, Science and Nature.
Her Idol was Great Mother Teressa.
03/06/16
First Stanza is original from a Contest and Second one follows.
Famous Last Line Contest
Third Place
Sponsor Laura Loo
#1
eroding hooded in-
fantry hounds endure
rear entry neutron edific-
ation
#2
ninety hidden round-
heads defied the
nations's fourth and
vinyl deity
#3
handy indentured Randy
hoed the feud from his
rooftop redoubt
#4
though yearning for
funds i found
knot butt frauds in my
yard
#5
tiny fading freon
nodes adore yon
daring radon onions
#6
reading frothy innu-
endo is only
funny when the
rhino's red hooves have
little or no foundation
#7
not so ornery
fiends hand out in-
ordinate amounts of
Henry's once hoarded
fortune