Long Packed Poems
Long Packed Poems. Below are the most popular long Packed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Packed poems by poem length and keyword.
With Sol shining spectacularly bright,
I woke to the trickle of melting snow.
Hoping that Spring had arrived overnight,
dripping icicles set my heart aglow.
And while Winter may still be holding tight,
in a few weeks she'll be forced to let go.
And when the daffodils sprout from the ground,
She'll simply slip away, without a sound.
I hear the honking of geese heading home:
their cacophony, music to my ears.
And as melting lakes shine like liquid chrome,
icicles morph into Spring's tepid tears.
And a world packed in snowy styrofoam,
revives, as it has for billions of years.
Resurrecting colors that are varied,
Spring germinates seeds that Autumn buried.
I'm delighted to see patches of green
polka-dot the alabaster landscape.
Winter no longer dominates the scene;
the melting snowmen can't retain their shape.
And each breath of Spring air smells fresh and clean,
as it facilitates Winter's escape.
Sol's shining with an optimistic glow
that soon, wildflowers will begin to show.
Tripping
She's tripping over memories
of those red flags she had.
It seems to her the good times
are far outweighed by bad.
She's running out of patience
she's run out of things to say.
She asked God give me one reason
to make me want to stay.
She listened for a moment
to the silence in the air.
She smiled and said there ain't one
or like me You just don't care.
She packed up her belongings
and she called a moving van.
She could have trained an army
with the time spent on one man.
She smiled again as she thought about
when he walked in that door.
When he sees what didn't matter
matters less now than before.
She left a table by his easy chair
and by the lamp she left a note.
She wondered if he'd bother
even reading what she wrote.
This song and dance was over
long before it even started.
You took me for a fool
that you easily outsmarted.
No good deed goes unpunished
now my good deeds are through.
The kind of man you chose to be
has now caught up to you.
There's warm beer on the counter
your dog is at your brothers.
Don't bother trying to call me
I'll be staying at your mothers.
Edwin C Hofert
I hear Albert Einstein's eyeballs
Are packed away in a lock box
Somewhere in New York City
Under golden key and lock
I can't help but wonder
About what it is he sees
Stuffed in that darkened rectangular box
For all of eternity
Do they pull them out and dust them off
Every now and then
Let them look around without a sound
A wink without a grin
Are they kept inside a pickle jar
Or do they roll around freely
These are a few of the questions
That keep confounding me
Do they MC square as they sit there and stare
Do they soak them in Visine
They must dry out rather quickly
With no way to possibly blink
Why would they save Albert's eyeballs
What could they possibly find
Unless they just just loved the color
Of the brown in his eyes
I heard today that they have Albert Einstein's eyeballs in a lock box somewhere in NYC. no idea if its true but it makes for one crazy poem!
Satan had a daughter, her name was Indiana
Came a time Satan could not understand her
What my young lass what does ails with thee
That none of your pains come in less of three
You moan in the morning, noon, and as night
Turning your own father’s hair in fright white
Hell had seen nothing like, and was in disarray
For this lawless child, left all of them in dismay
Meetings were held to see what could be done
And who walks in, none other than Satan’s son
Satan says Jesus where on earth have you been
Who replied just to Jerusalem to cause a scene
Satan wails, something needs sorting with Indy
Things round here are just a little bit too windy
She's a total nemesis to me, who's after my job
A pain in the butt, a through, and through, sod
Jesus thinks for a moment, he makes a decision
Send her to earth; it has a need for more vision
Wings packed; a one way ticket, Indy was gone
Heaven help us son says Satan, if you’re wrong
There was to be peace in Hell never liken before
Whilst back on earth all were geared up, forlorn
Folks gathered in churches and, prayed like Hell
This Demon child that they just wanted to expel
Satan and his brother God, nowhere to be seen
Jesus he relaxed, with all of this being foreseen
Earth is not happy, they want to be reimbursed
As to Indiana, there couldn’t be anything worse
O yeah, Satan had a daughter
O yeah, O yeah
O yeah . . .
playing solitaire, staring at four squares,
stepping on cracks.
the hole in our plan — an empty pocket.
cards thrown down — they’ve disappeared,
both the king and queen, with rough-edged crowns,
like outer space jesters.
bed sheets roll over, cooling down once more.
the checkerboard floor waits for the ruling court.
t’will be alright at morning light.
cruising at heightened emotion, spoilt by nighty-night waves.
stars blinded us — packed so tight,
the royal couple fights to get out of the suitcase.
scouring for ice cream cone at midnight,
during customer service hours.
Alice lies about wonderland.
the white rabbit checks his time once again:
“Are you ready for teleportation?”
happens all the time it seems!
1/15/2018
Brian Strand’s Middle Jan 2018 Contest
THE NEW MIDDLE PASSAGE…
Unlike ancestors,
with their shackles
chaining them to ships’
bellies and bowels---they
volunteered to be packed
like sardines; to be
rescued at sea
to be free of old tyranny---
happy for the new that awaits---
fortified in the future
by the cruel injustice of home.
Thus, armed with the weaponry
of steel faith, they chose
to challenge the sea to be free---
floating on the waves of hope---seeking
the possibility of a morsel of liberty.
What a pitiful irony---they paid for the journey
the ancestors had no choice in taking:
maybe one day---their children
will be able to pay---returning home willingly.
WILD ACROSTIC
Whether we are weary, distraught, so down and hurt
Enjoy life, join right or left-feet dance, laugh out loud.
Whether the world turns us upside down
In failure, despair or anything that makes us cry and frown.
Liquor is never a solution, beer may do, never on drugs
Live a healthy life every day, keep doing our best.
Places in this world are so beautiful. Visit. Get our chance!
Amusement parks here and there, get all the rides.
Remember that life is too short,
Take time to shop, sing on karaoke, stroll around
You and I got to be good while we go crazy at times.
Love a lot every day like a downpour from above
Ignite our passions in music, dancing, poetry or arts
Keep doing it, happiness is a great reward
Enjoy life, join right or left-feet dance, laugh out loud!
The future is uncertain, tonight we may die
Have our luggage packed, carry them so light
Eat a lot but take time to exercise
Rest assure we’re in good shapes all the time
Establish good relationship with everyone
Share in their company as they jig and bounce
No vices while we go with all these head bangs
Over the hills, ecstasy will only be music in all kinds
Tomorrow may not come, tonight we may die
Our life is like a butterfly, don’t you wonder why?
Make it so happy and healthy, let’s do our best
Over our dead body, don’t ruin it with worries and fear
Remember that each one is unique- God’s love and care
Remember our family whom we can always rely on
Orchestra of life is playing. Spruce up… no more sorrow and
We will party like there’s no tomorrow!
Oct. 17, 2016 6.50pm
©2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
They packed us in ships and boats.
Sardines have more space in their cans as compared to us,
Low ventilation, no water, little food,
Out of our land of abundance, land of riches, land of gold,
We sailed off to the land unknown,
‘Door of No Return’, that was the last door I saw in my homeland.
With shackles on our necks, ankles and wrists, we were led sheepishly to the ship,
When we complained, they lashed us, when we rebelled, they killed us,
And the weak amongst us; they were maltreated.
My sister was force raped yesterday; it’s my fiancée’s turn today,
We were supposed to get married last Sunday,
“I’ve been shot in one knee”, an Old Norse slang,
I’m married; I was going to tell my friends,
But the sun sure didn’t smile on me on Sunday,
Now in a new land, new soil, we’re auctioned like some merchandise,
I thought they only wanted our gold, or was it not enough; the additional cocoa,
Now we work on their plantations, from dawn until dusk,
We’re forced to speak the Whiteman’s language,
We’re forced to eat their food and dress like them,
And the very thing that make us Africans; our pride, It’s been taken from us,
So I wonder the kind of future that lies ahead for our unborn generations,
I wonder if our rich values, our norms, our traditions,
I wonder if they would be passed down to them,
Africa, my story.
Twin Peaks
My nana used to say don’t go out without your vest
I wish that I had listened, cos I have an infection on my chest…
The dear old Spanish mama’s still in goose fat do believe
They say pack it on - and your chest it will relieve.
They say you just get someone you like to gently rub it on
But where will I get the geese and fat - cos I’m gonna need a ton?
They also recommend that I can use the salt so fine
That’s not a bad idea because we are close to a salt mine…
Now packed with a greased up, very salty vest
I am wondering if… it will ever improve my chest.
I have come across a problem the grease and fat baked on so hard
I am now a tourist attraction, so stand in line and take a card.
The vest has set so well and the infection did not stay
I am waiting for the council to bring the kangos hammers near this way
We have tried a pick and shovel, a hammer and chisel too
But none will break through the vest, what am I going to do?
Google earth have now contacted me and said they will come out and re map
Because as I am a tourist attraction they want the people to come on back
I will have my own listing and for those who’s Spanish is a little weak
The literal translation to find me, just look under the words “Twin peaks.”
© ~GG~ 17/10/2102
Grief, My Friend
My phone rang at 7 in the morning
I was still asleep
The loud ringing, stirred me strong
Woke me up from the depths deep
Half awake I picked it up
And said a weak hello
On the other end was my sister
Her shaky voice, hollow
She called my name
And I just knew something has gone awry
Her voice was full of horror and despair
Her heart sounded heavy
‘Papa is no more’ she said
The words slapped me right in the face
Jolted from the stupor I was
My shattered pieces scattered all over the place
I packed my suitcase, I packed my life
What was there left to pack anyway
Her words still haunt me, tear me apart
I will never forget that day
My father died that day and with him
Died a part of me
Smile on my face, sorrow in my heart
Grief, the colour of my soul shall be
My constant companion now is my pain
My loss is now my concerned friend
But there is hope and anticipation in the fact
That we will meet again - ‘In the End’