Long Originality Poems

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


Run Bacon Run

Run Bacon run, the sound come echoing from the gun, run bacon run there is nothing to fear hold on to the third and the fifth gear. The oil is in the hip, grease your joints before you take that dip.

 Meringue and carhop is no match for the crown. His body is on fire, and his passion is rolling with desire. The cow is on heat and the miracle is underneath my feet. He is running around in the sty so come catch the bull before it dies; the herd is waiting at the crossing with guitar and drums getting ready for that final home run. 

Run bacon run, tie up your belly and run, take off your socks and shoes and anchor your feet in the ground before the mid-day news. Take up your baggage and run before you hear the final gun.

 They are no match for your ingenuity, your originality and your brevity the crowd is pressing on with courage, ambition and perseverance but the dictator is hiding in the room and you have to remove him before noon.

Run bacon run the race is not yet done, this weekend promises to be fun if you stay in your lane and follow your gut feeling. You have got to know how to roll the dice and you got to know how to run on ice, you must keep your feet firm on the ground and follow the beam on the screen.

Run bacon run, you have three more laps  before it’s done, the universe is watching you, and the crowd is patronizing you.Run bacon run,  and take control of the track, the president and prime-ministers are in the stands, they are tossing money and playing lot, and way up in the gallery the Saudi dignitaries are getting jittery and the referees are moving around the field taking notes and observing the “goats”. They have thrown a lot of money in this race and anxiety is swelling in their face but they were not in a hurry, for the estimated glory.

Beacon is turning the corner and the crowd is roaring louder, bacon is getting is on the home stretch and it is pulling away in depth. The eastern stand is on fire and it is dancing with pleasure while the northern stand is cruising with the breeze and water is dripping from their knees, they are also on fire. 

The western stand is burning with desire and the bacon has just crossed the finishing line in a striking distance of more than fifty meters. I have got to take the bacon home to cool down this internal fire, and give the niceties their final desire.

Run Beacon run!


The Way I Am

A casualty of a personality similarity, apparently,
though it's not apparent to me, 
maybe in a parallel reality with unparalleled insanity.

My motto is true individuality breeds pure originality,
I hate monos I do but inconsistency prevents rhyme simplicity.

However, I endeavour to be quite clever,
and mix this rhyme with a talent that only said hello 
and let itself be known when I sat all on my own 
and met my lowest low and felt all was an unknown.

After I boycotted social events
and my siblings kept a distance
through a transition to clearance 
and all was different but for my parents.

When I could of drank and walked around violent
or gone back to cannabis as a daily requirement,
but I vented in silence and sat and wrote a sentence
to then rhyme it in an instant and express a cruel incident,
all done with rational thought and I felt happy with the result.

I found a talent up my sleeve 
better than what I ever believed, 
assured by my second poem called "Believe",
13 months on there are 400 more to read.

I've covered a whole range of topics,
writes of stupid silly to writes of serious logic,
but lyrical writes enabled 
a plastic Eminem wannabe label 
as though I'm unable to be a creative individual,
and so slated for not being an original.

It seems that Trim Shady alias will stay with us 
and I'll seem ridiculous but the influence 
that became the fake appearance will see a disappearance, 
I'm Nicholas or Trim I don't initial my title
I'm not trying to be like Marshall whom is unrivalled.

I'll do it my own way with individuality, 
knowing that alter ego is the only reason you see a similarity,
but I'll make you see I'm a singularity, 
a personality out to become a familiarity.

Though I've balanced my talents over a vast distance using 
rhyme to reference these events it makes no difference to opinions,
yet I stay driven because I was influenced by Winston and his words to the wars winning.

Let's be clear Churchill caught my ear like Slim and I listened in awe to him when he said "Never Give In", 
so if the world goes silent I'll start to sing, 
if you attack me I'll whack you, 
if you distract me I'll trap you, 
if you perceive me as fake 
I'll make you retract that statement with haste.

I'm evolution at play,
changing and adapting,
but I'll always do it my way.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

It Came In Our Dreams

“It Came in Our Dreams”

The Others 
watch on,
somewhere above us.

we, ant like
form our battalions
soldier ants 
with no substantial sting
repelling reptilian 
brains in flight
striking our oily deals 
sliding into our nightmares, 
acrid smoke, bee-keeping our hives
we strike, in routine formations

they count 
our worth.
our number 
measured
in what always
walks alone
in our dreams.

they send
their messengers
to us, in our dreams,

while we 
war
in our sleep,
in the depth 
of our despair
in the flow, 
of our dreams. 

when we wake
we think,
that was so real -
what was that all about, 
that was so real,
where are we - 
are we really here? 

they count 
our worth
our number 
measured 
in what always 
walks alone
in our dreams. 

we 

are more 
vulnerable
than we believe.
we are seen 
for what we truly are
human - 
the fabric of us, flimsy -

easy 
and dispensable.

for a while 
we 
think,
we are 
all 
there is -
unique, 

in truth, 
we ...
lack originality.

wars 
of the unreal,
Nuremberg 1541
there have always been battles,
could this 
have been real, 
or just a dream

Tic-tac-toe 

we think we 
know 
it all 

battles come and go

what is drawing us
forward and up 
out of our bodies,
from the too deep dream 
we toss and turn 
in our sleep, nightmares
easy regiments -
dispensable, flimsy

souls
without feet.

one war down
another
to go.

It came in our dreams

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)



“Pallas Athena”/Bowie
https://youtu.be/yNV5_6vz208





Nuremberg, 1541 
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1561_celestial_phenomenon_over_Nuremberg

Celestial Phenomenon Over Nuremberg, April 14th, 1561 
https://publicdomainreview.org/collection/celestial-phenomenon-over-nuremberg-april-14th-1561




Witness 
https://movies2watch.is/watch-tv/watch-ufo-witness-hd-67147.4829014




President Reagan: Address to the United Nations, September 26, 1988 https://youtu.be/nYi5h5Gvdz8

Ronald Reagan, UN, September 21, 1987 / Threat 
https://youtu.be/bfS7FrN5aNQ





LYRICS/”Pallas Athena”, Bowie
https://genius.com/David-bowie-pallas-athena-lyrics

Humbled Part 2

~ (~) ~

Soaring higher, 
inspiring-and-bold; 
far beyond-the-normal, 
a true originality stands 
alone, lives Honestly boldly,
Openly-Willingly, remains-
connected, centered-
and-free, is confined-
never-within-itself, 
looks for a perfect 
home amid the mix 
revealing for all-the-
goodness frosting-
the-butter cake-
welcomes the-
test-of-time, 
stays-at-
home-within-
the-heart-of-what-
is-real, challenges-
only itself offers its hope-
to another to live a life, as 
                                                                              irrefutable. 
 
 
"Many boundaries remain for us on this journey to find this. It has taken many years of faith; 
failure... mostly on my family and friends part the failures being mine to rise to this position. 
Because through their faithfulness and belief in me even when I did not believe myself I stand 
here with them and you at this positioning of accepting this fact today. "As I was brought so
they too were I believe through God's goodness ultimately I pray to remain, because 
humbled by Him through this I am - as we all are I feel-if too; they are willing themselves to 
look, and if not-I-know in this time left-however much if even it only merely now. 

Just as I believe now Mr *Frost* himself suggested in and through his life of acceptance of 
this written down in the prevalence of his work. So with that being said again thank you for 
listening, struggling, pondering searching I know myself it is in the effort of this an ambition 
offered and accepted and entirely a proposition not; for not-in it potential and final fruition. 
So yes-as I said many boundaries remain as We peregrinate along with each other on this 
journey. It is a pleasure to have shared in this with you thus far. 

God willing I know the boundaries will be overcome, working together Him being the guide 
and maybe it will not be that long either I-We if you will can-only-hope as I would presume as 
I am by far at least have been opened myself to the opportunities though I know them only in 
part as of now in their various ways as the greater suggestion. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lLs2dC9NaE

http://allpoetry.com/ban/show/6960
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.

~ Poem the 1st Chap. Inspired Bye ~ Part #27

Because ... . 
 
~    ~
~  ~
~~
Grace 
faith;-
~~
            patience;-
~~
          mercy joy belief,
         humility and true absolution,
       who themselves do-not-desire  
       or cry-out from-within, for-the-
      solace and-security of this ... ? 
       ~~
        ~~
For I have felt-and seen,
that gracious, love exults the-very-
principals ... and generous surrender for 
all eternity of their open-will. 
     ~~
  ~~
Perfect innocence, 
hopefulness and liberty overt
from the day they were born, raging-winds-
could-not-defile;- because docile, they remain 
amenable, an endearing vision of truth:-
though however fragile.
  ~~
   ~~
           No greater joy-is there for me, nor- 
        anything-more-divine, bridging-the-expanse,
      between-bitter abhorrence ... my own 
     tendentiousness ... unbridled-greed, 
    a genuine ... injustice;- and 
       immeasurable peace.
     ~~
       ~~
   So taken-in-by the wheat fields  
        supplicating mid conciliate winds:- teeming
      I tarried to view-them as I did amble along amid the
     swaying stalks so very felicitous;- to be alive;-
       and in-quiet reverence;- to my Father.
          ~~
        ~~
           Touched by their faithfulness-
            I offered again to Him-
      for His promise-
       culminated-
for-me, ~
   ~~
~~
       my essence.
~~
~~
~~
~~
~~
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 "I'd rather repeatedly fail in my youth-than regret certain consequences ... of my youth's abandon." 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Soaring higher, 
inspiring-and-bold; 
far beyond-the-normal, 
a true originality stands 
alone, lives Honestly boldly,
Openly-Willingly, remains-
connected, centered-
and-free, is confined-
never-within-itself, 
looks for a perfect 
home amid the mix 
revealing for all-the-
goodness frosting-
the-butter cake-
welcomes the-
test-of-time, 
stays-at-
home-within-
the-heart-of-what-
is-real; challenges-
only itself offers its hope-
to another to live a life; as 
                                                                              irrefutable.
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.


Nothing More Or Less

Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
Imagination trims
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Hollywood rounds
Quills deliver
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
Tragedies
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less

My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Dead
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less

I cringed for originality 
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED 
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less

Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark 
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Wake Up Oh Africa

With the heavy load you suffer
a substance not needed
yet drags you
cushioning your efforts
and deterring your pace, forgetting that
the Train is already moving
with passengers determined
for this journey.

Why get so distracted
by passers-by focused to catch up?
Why are you tossed side to side,
putting you each time,
a step backwards?
Can't you realize that
the Train is already moving
with passengers determined for this journey?

It seems you are the only one left
and this is solely your doing
with no one to blame
and the rest,
definitely have no added advantage over you.
So stop acting weak
cos the Train 
is already moving
with passengers determined for this journey.

Wake up oh Africa!
you get your independence
just to become a volunteer slave.
You live in a Mansion
yet have no place to sleep.

Stop acting like a bucket of Crabs
killing each other
just to get out
and copy the ants
united and networking
for a common cause.

You fight for just a coin
underneath the Table.
When on it is a box
full of this same treasure.
Despite knowing how to reach out 
to its top,
you neglect such knowledge
and accept conflicts, violence and wars.

Settling for good enough
is worst than being bad
you blow your trumpet
when you make a step
out of a thousand more.
You show unbelievable contentment
to mediocrity and under-achievements,
but remember this!
Half a giant is no giant at all.

You have the breast plate
of protection
and all the arsenals to battle 
yet you dine with the helms of poverty
and embrace the ambassadors
of all kinds of infirmities.
You walk around naked
and seem not to bother
oh Africa!
Do you exist to actualize all these negativity?

An expert of imitation
and a professional in copying
no wonder no matter your trys
you end up as number 2 at best.
Because you've neglected
the sweetness of your originality.

You milk your cattle
to nourish the west
you harvest your crops
to feed foreign stomachs
you stand on abundant humus
yet your leaves are yellow and dry.

Exactly what will happen to the ants
if their Queen puts
their fate on the lizards
is what will befall you
not until you wake up oh Africa!
Form: Epic

Guarana Mo

Guarana Mo!

Most of the follow
     wing (fictitious) quit
tuss cent shill, knit
head, (non adult tryst) pit
tee full (sorry excuse
     for originality), rit
dunk yule huss, feebly
     abominable attempt at unit

tarry yen rhyme for excellence,
     benignly, essentially,
     and honestly wit
less, worthless reading mitt
tear real - dashed off
(by this hare reed rabbit),
wall henna burst of
     (playful tulles toy) warren peace,

     aye practically spit
out (from inxs of carrot juice),
     now dost daringly be hove
     brave reeder to comprehend
     this dime metrical kickstarter fit -
bawling contrived nada very tit
till late ting, nor
     not so great English lit,

and moost unlikely tuff hind
     posthumous fame, 
     worm ma obit
chew wary verb boss
     lee probably re:nouns,
(this once upon
     a time pablum child),
     nor e'en garner this hare reed

     ole Jack a one hit
wonder poetic laureate,
     nonetheless this
     (o' whar did me bunny go),
     perhaps to Brit
tin endeavoring merely
     to join United Kingdom
     (and merrily) writ

for the underground
     to test skill at
     heart felt fabrication like me,
     thus exempting bing 
     considered, judged,
     and labeled tubby unfit.
Now let yours truly whoop
focus to address main intent,

     (sans for quick
     pick me up)
and nary drop of coffee,
     nope not even one molecule
     to fill thimbleful sized cup
I reach for bottle of Guarana,
     (one serving of
     coffee per capsule)

     fo' this aging pup,
who attests that caffeine
    (liquid and/or
     encapsulated), the sole vice
(except for barbiturates, cocaine,
     "FAKE" opioid, et cetera),
     which overdose nearly found me
     nearly a grateful dead – thrice

occasions, where
     circumstances of Mus
self (Stuart Little reincarnate -
     with an insatiable
     craving for cheese
     laced with Guarana, 
     Paullinia cupana,

     a climbing plant
     in the maple family), 
     which bean sized seeds
     affordable at an acceptable price
     many times larger
     than puffed rice.

Take a Last Chance On Me

Took a long drive, ended upon an oceanview watched the sunset
decided writing my heart once again to you
my last letter had much conviction
read carefully now this needed petition

From our limited conversation
you said your in love
thinking of marriage
your happiness is sound
yet skepticism in your voice reads rebound

does second best constitute what you really miss
I've not forgotten, a few key things you really  need
two and three a roof and family unity
the first, love without hesitation

before you accept vows from  another
grant me this extra measure
take a last chance on me
let me prove to you I'm true
let me be the inspiration you really need
take a last chance on me

over and over within my mind
decisions I've made
recounting all wrongful actions
learning from elapsed time
corrected my crossed thinking
no longer mentally blind
today maturity lives strong
new direction, teaching, understanding

Past expressions are just reflections
views and opinions, everyone changes
we're no exceptions to the rule
judge me not by yesterday for today I'm someone new
as I'm sure are you

maybe much time has passed
maybe he fills the void in some ways
maybe he's got good intentions
but because he cant replace my crazy personality
you cant replace originality
maybe I shouldn't read things as deeply as I always do
maybe I should get on with finishing this song 
and hope you'll come back too

can he make you laugh till you cry
can he make you cry with joy in your eyes
can he dance the night away
does he hold your hands in a guiding fashion
does he inspire you time after time

would he fight for your right
would he chase after a memory and stay dedicated to you
would he write his heart out just to show he's true
would he try to keep you always by his side
would he worship you the way I do

before you accept vows from another
grant me this extra measure
take a last chance on me
let me prove to you I'm true
let me be the Inspiration you really need
take a last chance on me

One last chance is all I ask
one last chance
one last chance is all I'm asking for 
take a last chance on me
© Ron Flatow  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

To the One For Me

Extend your hands my love
Come away with me
Lets fade away forever from sight
And explore visions of scenes we dream each time we are asleep
Let’s roam in echoing intuitions where we secretly meet
Let’s glide high on templates of splattered glitters on the highest mountains of high
Let’s set our souls refined, inscribed with pieces of love and unity
Carved in resonating pride and dignity, sewn to ever fly above infinity
Over suspensions of grace conforming to no rules nor any restricting territories
Where you and I alone reborn become one aligned in synchrony
Coated, covered in nectar soaring, streaking in flight, in light over the garden of beauty
Ever to be seen in dreams and memories
Each time they set sight on visions of eternity


When memories unfurl
The thoughts of you re-awaken tainted in fame of perfumes and styles
That linger passionately on silver wines spread lusciously apart
Aligned in exquisite perfection
Conforming to no logical alacrity, thoughts or styles where the human mind can find reasoning in or undo quickly
My design to overwhelm logic
That state of fantasy, my originality carved to compensate my ideal reality
That never fades far away from its ever loving grace
In passions of hues
Sewn only to my membrane
Your face never ceases to fade away
In my head they live from night to night
From sight to sight
Side to side
You’ve always remained within my grip and mine in yours
There you are
There you’ve always been setting notable footprints of legacy
and sowing seeds of tomorrow

We’re forever one
Made for me as I am made for you and together we live in company
You rekindle my soul’s thirst for energy and synergy
Where inscriptions of our love resides to re-ignite my passion and remedy

Merge your world in mine as mine’s in yours
We intertwine and together we’re both bound to shine, fly
For we are an unstoppable flow, we remain unflappable souls
We glide, we march
We breathe, we grow
Unfold your soul damsel, rise
Unfurl your petals to glow in peace
The time has come to live in liberty
Now and forevermore, if you promise to stay with me........
Form:

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