Long Origami Poems
Long Origami Poems. Below are the most popular long Origami by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Origami poems by poem length and keyword.
If I had wings the size of helicopter blades
I would circle the world over and look for you
If I owned bulbous sheen o'er Irish glades
tinged in bronze I would enhance, accrue
the worldly space of you, for I love you
If I were paper or some origami glue
I would fold your secrets inside my heart
If I were a harbinger of love an Angel of hue
a Carvaggio masterpiece of light and dark
I wouldn't need to travel far to be with you
If I knew the waltz I could dance to your music
I would leave behind my celestial lair
If I knew you needed me, I would be quick
I'd turn back the time and fly through the air
land at your side because I do care
I'd circle the world for the ripple effect of your smile,
then enter your soul, just to bridge the last mile.
May 31, 2022
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name: Flight
If you poke an alligator with a snake
Or you dance the foxtrot on a garden rake
Or you kiss a crocodile
Cos you love its big wide smile
Then you’ve lived a lot too long for goodness sake
If your tea time treat is poison ivy cake
If you paid a gangster off with cash that’s fake
If you just topped up your gin
With some nitro glycerin
Then you’ve lived a lot too long for goodness sake
If you pour hot chilli powder on your steak
Or you ice skate on a barely frozen lake
If you throw a punch or two
At someone bigger than you
Then you’ve lived a lot too long for goodness sake
So why don’t you sit at home and learn to bake
Learn to cook a three course meal or carrot cake
You could practice origami
Til you drive yourself half barmy
Then you’ll know you've lived too long for goodness sake
I Wanna End Me
It’s chill dawg. I’m just a savage. Gotta take that redpill homie. Two squared. Remember the illusion and have a giggle. No need to pout. It’s just a lil fun and games. Haha. Paint me like one of your Trojan horses. Why be sad that I’m returning home soon? Big bad voodoo daddy. Let me know. New Orleans. It’s likely that I’m a sociopath. But what would it matter? Chairs don’t sit, so why would I let the thought do so?
Mcguffins. Pilgrims. Plow rainbow serpentine. Turps. Wax on, doze off. I wanna kiss Billie Eilish. Her dead inside look matches my ensuite. Reckon she’d carry a lot of Bilbo baggage. As do thee unto mishaps. Perhaps. Hmm. Plausible. Ocean endeavours. Funny to think she’s younger than me. Origami. Murmur more peasant.
No board here. Rest easy mudblood. Whichever jumbo cup, always worth the diabeetus. Science, beach. Card master rates, deep down low. Don’t watch on acid. Reads palsy palms. Muster the leap of faith. Sow the famine field of bliss. Certified manga madness. Mango? Two for five dollars. Get like forty of em’. Fiddy bucks. Lez go. Who the hell are ya? I wanna know. Who do you think you are? Coming round here. Fancy pants.
Route 66 roadtwister? I don’t think so mister. Haha. Fly away. Debate the ways of the flying dutchman. Fly over yonder with thou stout in hand. Bound for the beasts riches in tires. Burnt rubber smells so good, not as good as keytamine. Tammy you little dinglebat. Rest easy little nymph. Driftking stands for doorokrats. Laundries. Coin? Denary. Tugboat the infestation. Retribution. Mortify. Grrrrr. That’s a growl. I don’t care. Zoo wee mumma. Throw that little Rat in a tub of acid. That’s nuts.
He knew she was watching, he could feel her quintessential presence
She had been taking care of him throughout his life, a mystical essence.
Even after her so-called death, his mother was protecting him through dream,
He let the oars linger in the water, and floated meditatively downstream
Loving the feeling he had on this surreal evening, as the moon doth set.
She was slumbering among the planets, and the stars, and yet,
Simultaneously here, her pixie dust full of stars protecting her boy, Hugo
He felt his mother today as well as he had felt her twenty years ago
Which was the last time he touched her warm arm and called her Mommy
He closed his eyes and let his dreams take him back to the safe world he used to know, full of May baskets and origami.
here I stand waiting
balanced on the edge of time
past draped at my back
the future creases forward
a bloom yet to be folded
creases cross the sheet
the past bends, then re-creases
future folds to match
both entwine though never meet
a puzzle time enlightens
like petals rising
origami takes its form
each wedge takes its place
a flower blooms in the room
unfurling in happenstance
paper remembers
each valley, each mountain path
trails of where I've been
ghosts of futures not yet lived
hidden in the pleated sedge
tilted polygons
wedges stacked in helical
time loops on itself
a structure both flat and vast—
endless bloom of folded space
each crease is a breath
a moment held in silence
each fold, a new path
unfolding from edge of time—
flowers blooming come alive
AERONAUTICAL ORIGAMI
It was my father taught me
How to make a paper plane.
Aerodynamically perfect,
He’d hit the target time and again.
And one day, in desperation,
I decided to use the art
To try to make an impression
And win a young lady’s heart.
I’d fallen in love with Jill Smithers
On the very first day at school,
But never got round to telling her,
In case she thought me a fool.
And so I made a paper plane,
Just as my dad had taught,
And put a little note inside,
Telling her what I thought.
I launched it across the classroom,
Carefully aimed at Jill,
But soon it became apparent
That I lacked my father’s skill.
It veered one way then to the other,
It had a mind of its own.
Until, as watched in horror,
It suddenly dropped like a stone.
It didn’t land on Jill’s desk,
As I had hoped it would.
Instead, it landed in the lap
Of a boy called Charlie Good.
My note said, “Meet in the playground”
And, at lunchtime he was there.
He said he hadn’t realised
That love was in the air.
Twenty years have passed since then
And we are together still.
He says he’s forever grateful
That I lacked my father’s skill.
21th August 2022
Paper Airplanes poetry contest
Sponsor - John Lawless
The wealthy seek company with your ten-acre heart and half-acre mind.
Groupies swarm beneath your haloed window even on rainy nights.
Tapping tambourines and triangles to poultice out those nuggets of life.
You slowly walk away from the frame and tiredly kiss them goodnight.
You try to temper pace, but the takers ripped the sundial from you.
Swarming like locusts- toting manuscripts, a photo shoot or two.
Who knew babysitting the universe could be so damn exhausting.
Impossible to escape from the talons of a new-age paparazzi.
All that you loved and lived for has long ago withered and died.
You barricade yourself from the gaze of a billion jagged green eyes.
Another golden chessboard gifted to you from an aging king.
Yet another bribe to pry from your palm the secret of eternity.
It all became too much; you've become the world's origami freak.
Folding and unfolding to appease the whirling maelstrom of greed.
You realize (too late) that the elixir is no blessing but a cutting curse.
You've been committed to an asylum called the song of dead birds.
You're 6006 years old, playing endless chess with moonbeams and ghosts.
Dimming lights-drawing shades to drown out the mirror and the smoke.
You try explaining to Dr. Narcotic that you're not a goblin, God, nor prophet.
Just a blue-collar pawn who stumbled upon an elixir of misery and rot.
Poem written for “Alice Through the Wormhole” Poetry Contest, Tom Woody, Sponsor, July 2025
BUCKLE UP ALICE!
Buckle up, Alice, for the cosmos calls!
The stars beckon with a siren song of the unknown.
The air crackles, charged with electricity.
Gravity bends and warps, pulling at the seams of reality.
Time stretches, a rubber band pulled taut.
Can you see it, Alice, the tunnel of indigo and emerald?
Galaxies twirl, bend, and twist.
A ballet of light and shadow flashes by at warp speed.
The horizon curves creating a kaleidoscope of colors.
Beautiful and intricate patterns form.
Can you feel it, Alice, the pulse of the universe?
Traverse deeper into the tunnel, Alice.
Approach the edge; feel gravity’s embrace.
The world behind you dissolves like sugar in warm tea.
The familiar fades, lost in the cosmic ether.
Can you sense it, Alice, a tugging at the fabric of your being?
Delve deeper, Alice, into the heart of the enigma.
Here, time gracefully pirouettes; space folds like origami.
Your thoughts become spiraling galaxies.
Your dreams propel you further into the unfamiliar.
Can you feel it, Alice, your fear dissolving into exhilaration?
Buckle up, Alice, for this journey has just begun.
You are a traveler of the cosmos, a seeker and a writer sublime.
Within the wormhole you discover—the journey is the destination,
with the stars and your creativity your constant companions.
Can you understand, Alice, the joy that lies ahead?
~ “Hey - returning your note!” ~
perhaps I'm not your type, alas
but I'm behind you, here in class
adoring each and every thing you do
the way you talk - so soft, yet clear
and tuck the tresses 'hind your ear
(the hair I'd love to run my fingers thru) ...
I love the way you tilt your hip
and always bite your bottom lip
whene'er you get excited or annoyed
the way you pass me secret notes -
crimped origami swans and boats
advising me the girls I should avoid ...
for me it's not the threads or bling
it's each sweet, steamy little thing
that other guys don't care about at all
and yet, if added - two-plus-two
they make for one amazing YOU
(the enigmatic You I'd love to call) ...
you might not know me very well
trimesters - long enough to tell
I'm apt to always treat you with respect
you're tres romantic - much like me
and know that love can someday be
as faithful as two hearts can thus affect ...
so, if I may, I'll start this task
as rhyme and meter, meant to ask
if you might give us just an evening each?
perhaps a steak house - Japanese
a theater, next - that new release!
and then a dreamy walk along the beach ...
the stroll may seem a bit too soon
but sad to waste that lovely moon -
what romance it’ll weave, no one can tell
so ..
I hope you'll flip this page and write
you'd “love to” date me, (friday night)
but quickly now, before they ring ...
the bell!
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
Paternal Grandfather Aaron Harris...
Lovely bones long since disintegrated
into dustbin of genealogical history,
if still alive would rank as oldest person
clocking another one incremental increase
asper in chronological number
anniversary of his birth occurring within July
year unknown, but within
latter decades nineteenth century
obviously conceived nine months prior
perhaps after raucous Thanksgiving feast,
where biological exuberance
induced natural throbs activating
indomitable rutting boisterous merriment.
Nary handy dandy scant blues clue known
about biography of aforementioned
long departed grandpa
only smidgen smudged details recalled
vague nebulous memories, these predicated
upon his every now and again visits, oft
times after he relocated to Florida
sporting tanned leathery
toughened crocodile hide
predictably, invariably, delicately donning
name brand signature
wrist watch, (albeit analog)
affixed loosely dangling
from his well weathered
lobster like bony south claw,
this singularly enigmatic
eye catching jewelry
captivating, fascinating, intriguing
glittering name brand trademark timepiece
affecting myself and siblings, especially youngest
asserting, contesting, vouchsafing...,
who would occupy coveted seat
closest to simple mechanical contraption.
After supper, he would regale
us three Harris grandchildren
(offspring begat in part courtesy
his favorite native son named Boyce
thee father to yours truly)
illustrating multifarious adept skill
folding sheets of outdated newspapers
creating cut out dolls strung together,
and/or the knack whereby
with few brisk
(i.e. Jewish version of origami),
he quickly styled boats, chairs, hats
none of which survived our rambunctious
severe tests of durability,
nor could any of us kids
reproduce with any remote success,
those deceptively
seemingly easy to craft
paper dolls linkedin with joined hands.