Long Ousts Poems

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


Premium Member Cold Is the Night

Cold is the night and dark and long
though with the gloom bleak humour comes 
we'll make it through, our love is strong

North wind howls under midnight's gong
and buries all neath ice and snow
cold is the night and dark and  long

Silence deep as snowflakes throng
unbidden doubt ousts fragile sleep 
we'll make it through, our love is strong

On melting snow, black springtails sprong
in tribute  to sun's slow return
though night is cold and dark and  long

From cedar green, red cardinal's song
foretells of warmer days to come
we'll make it through, our love is strong

With sun's return spring comes along       
snow melts, rain falls and life glows green
the days are warm, the sun is strong 
we made it through, our love is long


1/25/2016


Premium Member The Inner Self


                                                       A serene light, within us bright,
                                                          A hidden world for us alone
                                                    Guides our path in our daily plight,
                                                 Where seeds of who we are are sown.

                                               Thoughts flutter all day and night where
                                                      A serene light within us bright
                                                    Whispers truths in the open air,
                                                   Real truths that unseal our sight.

                                                  Such a glow ousts darkness of night
                                                   As the inner self shines and gleams,
                                                       A serene light within us bright,
                                                     Like a shining beam in a stream.

                                                    The inner self, our closest friend,
                                                         Is to us a source of delight
                                                  All through our life to the dead end,
                                                     A serene light, within us bright.
Form: Quatern

Premium Member Perdition

In tears that feign to be a slave with deeds
That mourn my life and ousts the face of peace
These sad bells ring with cries for now I grieve
And bow my head because I cannot cease

I choose the weight of ton and gloom of ache
To lay in watch to mark the clock rush slow
The pang of rail, the strike of steel to take
With one foot in the pit of grave songs woe

The sun has but to trade the dark to light
But lost and fixed its loft clings far too high
As cold and cloud have barred such smiles from sight
To breach this heart so meek with sad lost cries

Bound and caged it has penned my last good bye
To spare this heart in dread to spurn or die

December 28, 2020

Addiction Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rob Levasseur
N/A 1-18-1021
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Dread

The song that feigns to be a slave in deed
To mourn the life that ousts the face of peace
That sad bells peal with tears of those who grieve
And bow their heads to those who fear to cease

To choose the weight of ton and gloom of ache
To lay in watch to mark the clock rush slow
The pang of rail, the strike of steel to take
With one foot in the pit of grave song's woe

The sun has but to trade the dark to light
But lost and fixed its loft clings far too high
As cold and cloud has barred its melt from sight
To hold this heart with bleak sad chill to cry

Bound and caged it pens its last sad good bye
To spare this soul of dread to spurn or die!

September 29, 2019
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Heart Gentle Eye Mindful

Written: May 18, 2024, For Unseeking Seeker Contest

                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Languid breath dwindles, scrounging panacea air
quiddity remorse core conveyed mindful glare
seraphim guilt throe stems from mind sapidity
heart wispy ousts weltschmerz, hatred morbidity.

Gentleness key squeals heart-tangled inner thread
unboxed core lead ecstatic heart hobnobbed tread
Is my heart-mind rancor overlaid by hazy myopia? 
milk with ice is a quintessential pillar of utopia.

Shepherding pragmatic apotheosis wide universe
hampered altruistic love ephemeral zeitgeists verse
emotional outbursts during meiosis—placate impact
forging forfend feeling fallacy focusing on facts.

Seeking soothing sense as silk-satin smoothness
fetches forbearance, fosters faith hearty-filled fewness
ripple aposiopesis words transcend catharsis sight 
sate sinew, eschew omniscience, heed hubris might. 

Living stubbornly with caesura implies life-moored 
we are living offhand, leaving us brittle but allured 
Issues occur wisely rather than haphazardly sought 
willing for heart-mind coo to fulfill what's taught.  

With authenticity, grace, sympathy, and tolerance
respect all people, despite views or providence
uphold merciful attitude and passionate mind
brain-heart harmony molded by cosmic pull blind.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


No Vanity Set For This Chap No Way

No Vanity Set For This Chap, No Way
(in praise of immortality)

Modesty an understatement,
when eyes chance
to look askew at looking glass,
mine reflection caught at a glance,
an old man's piercing dart

mirrors my blinkered acquaintance
faint recognition communicates 
immediate tacit admittance
boyish good looks faded
with morning glory of youth
as senescence didst advance.

Similar to the strikingly handsome
Dorian Gray, this mortal
strictly shares penchant to affiance
a pact with father time, and

devoutly pledge allegiance
to remain forever unaffected
with ill fated biological alliance
even if mandate to pay

with my soul as sole allowance
to stave off the ravages of old age
maintaining glowing ambience
of boyish good looks, or...die...
twill be to late for an ambulance

to rush lifeless body 
forthwith to hospital emergency,
an immediate appearance
of rigor mortis, a dead give away.

Cumbersome degradation of
corporeal essence breeds arrogance
born of desperation,
where chronological ascendance
robs cherished commodity,

thus pained angst
to suffer aging accidentally evinced
looking askance
hints of unavoidable assistance
when wracked by incontinence,
thus rendering incumbent orderly attendance,

hence awareness awakened to singular
choice as avoidance,
where vigilance espies silent auction
as decrepitude ousts clutching buoyance
quickly fading steamrolling capacitance
to cling (by the merest thread)

fat or slim chance
against depredations of...
inevitable circumstance trumpeting
"NON FAKE" absent cognizance,
sans horribly wizened wrinkled countenance!

A New Beginning

Reborn here now without baggage
No haunting beast or evil wraith
I come, sans illicit luggage
with a heightened belief in faith

I'll not give in to temptation
Reborn here now without baggage
I am worthy of salvation
Cleansed, in a new improved package

Rebellion ousts right of passage
I have learned my lesson quite well
Reborn here now without baggage
where in the past, from grace I fell

Life offers a new beginning
I've recovered from the damage
No more anguish over sinning
Reborn here now without baggage


October 2, 2021
Dawn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Form: Quatern

Coups, Elections, and Africa

In the heart of vibrant Africa, where democracy should reign,
Two shadows lurk, two specters haunt, two faces of the same pain.
One a soldier, gun in hand, the other clothed in suit,
Both rob the people of their choice, both the people's voice they mute.

The military coup, so stark, its violence loud and clear,
Ousts the leaders chosen by the people, instilling fear.
An iron fist in velvet glove, the power it seizes tight,
An eclipse of freedom, a darkened sun, a never-ending night.

The electoral commission, oh, how it wears a gentler face,
Yet hides beneath a veneer of law, a similar disgrace.
Votes cast in trust, a people's hope, but when the counting's done,
The rightful winner cast aside, the injustice has begun.

One uses bullets, the other, pens, tools of power's game,
But look within their hearts and see, their purpose is the same.
To usurp the will of the people, to claim a stolen throne,
To silence the voice of democracy, to make the power their own.

A coup is a tempest, fierce and wild, a storm that shakes the land,
Election theft, a poison slow, a tightening of the hand.
Yet both are a violation, a rape of trust and right,
Both leave a wound upon the land, a scar both deep and bright.

Africa, oh Africa, the cradle of mankind,
In your heart democracy’s seed, these usurpers try to bind.
But your spirit is resilient, your will cannot be tamed,
For the flame of freedom, once lit, cannot be maimed.

And so your people rise, against the bullet and the pen,
To claim the promise of their vote, to find their voice again.
For whether by coup or stolen vote, the truth remains the same,
Injustice anywhere is a threat, to justice's sacred flame.

Each coup, each election, a battle in the fight,
For the heart of Africa, for democracy's light.
Yet, hope persists, the struggle goes, until that glorious day,
When Africa is free at last, come what may.
Form: Other

Manifestation

Foremost apex bird leading the flock flight 
United to run the race and fight the fight 
Apache, Comanche, Samurai, knight
Choosing to keep victory in mind and sight
Tearing through the darkness till we behold light
March by day, sojourn by night 
And because we solely rest upon God’s might 
Only being head and not tail feels right 

Bracing the weather, weathering the storm 
We give and take as we take form
Change is our preserve as we preserve righteous norm
Moment’s heat in a cold world somehow feels warm
As happenings and deeds feed how our deeds perform 
In life’s seesaw arena we sow to see what will blossom 
From middles and ends, we claim the whole portion by portion 
We mark and eke out our ideals and a nation 

Advancing, withstanding and wearing off resistance 
With passion, conviction and insistence 
Feeding on virtue and denying sin any dalliance 
Overcoming evil with good and rebellion with reverence 
Fruitfulness ousts empty occupation and nonchalance 
And so we emerge from the dull trenches with a radiance
With a baffling lustre, poise and stance
Affording a gaze where we couldn’t beg a glance 

K. Muitherero
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Miracle of Life

I'm drawing plans for a fictional realm, 
Insightful brinks and a sacrifice-themed helm. 
Smoothness clings to a grip, then rots away,
Her ruby eyes are shadowed by a torn sky.

Cold, harsh hands of time cement reality, 
Consider a wild parallel to true vitality. 
I spot your inner vibe and your groove,
Wait for them until we are told to move.

Ardor pulls me and ousts me at the sight,
aired hands-held dirty web shreds on site. 
Are you going to cry away your worry?
Repair the shattered pieces of my fury.

Bind our beating souls jointly raising affection,
Yield the cosmos a color-flowing connection. 
Bind me to draw with you as we recite our tale,
Configure the skeleton with a quatrain trail.

Throw pain and swab it away from raw flesh,
From our throat, write thoughts left fresh.
A writer with omniscience named fate rosery,
Ink filled our souls till we were bleeding poetry.

Draft a proud ending and infuse it into capacity,
Sitting on the side of the soul rapt in creativity.

Written: October 06, 2022
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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