Long Parts Poems

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


A Chip Off the Old Writer's Block

Strikes relentlessly thrashing
     (from all points
     encompassing me) assigned
unforgivingly, vehemently,
     witheringly, blind
ding figurative sight, then
    I finally craft a title,
then subsequent lines

     of poem (or prose) defined
incumbent to pay
     proper obeisance deigned
then once a thread bare
     theme more or less defined
unleashing skein of thoughts,
     (that barrel thru
     muss hike key)

     utterly entangled,
     enthralled and entwined
rather then panic, a series
     of deep breaths
     decompresses,
     deemphasizes, and diminishes
a near futile attempt (thwarting captivity,
     futility, and impossibility) to find

even just a faint coalescence,
     essence, and furtherance
     pitting ma small nose
     to the metaphorical grind
stone calmly try
     to temper onslaught
     of tsunami like brain storm,
     yet no matter

     how fast fingers type,
     a sinking sensation,
     sans pursuit to process
     this tidal wave sets me
     further be hind,
this faux
cat and mouse game,
     which forces bust

ting thru out this scribe
     demand to answer himself
     with minor expletive,
     viz cheeses crust
why the ƒ¨ç° must
     this doggone eventual dust,
when staking claim
     on literary fame and fortune

     will no doubt entrust
yours truly to pauper's grave
     (if lucky enough
     to garner gofundme monies
or not bother, and consign
     any viable anatomical
     parts of this
     well kept body fussed

over with copacetic delight,
     holistic insight, and magic night,
     where a strong gust
of wind doth suffuse dreamy state
permeating mine subconscious,
     where inexplicable

     exemplifications doth leap
and prance, while aye
      obliviously repose in deep sleep,
which may be the condition
     of an unsuspecting reader,
     whether an generic
     guy or...a Veep.


Premium Member Too High a Price

Too High A Price

"A pleasured life, too short a measure, a treasure that's too high a price..."

                       A photograph in blues unveils
            a vacuous 2009 look of the devout
             and one who intervened with her faith asked, 
      "Was I wrong?, she whispered, "You were my gift." 
                    too high a price...
            and to that, her smile draped in azure, gleamed for a few days more,

Pastor, composer, musician, singer--parts to a prefaced Word 
          spills to a floor, for a church that wants more
                    too high a price...
not to share with her extended family and her own,
          a church clears all into their hearts and enriching lives
                         all shined in the intricacies of sapphire,

         Her life well worth all of Earth's treasures,
               yet to garner a touch, a smile,
             rend mixed feelings of pain and joy,
                   of her mortal soul that turned a memorable blue
                    too high a price...
             for me to bear, being on my own.

***In her final years, she forgot who I was, in her finals days, she remembers me, in her finals hours, she finds her peace, as I began my journey to find mines...

2019 September 11

*GRAND Prize*

THE CONTEST OF ALL CONTEST
~~William Kekaula
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Facts of Life

The hardest part's not growing up,
It's growing old.
The toughest part's not facing life,
It's facing facts.
Life's path is not the same for all,
If truth be told,
Some lives are lived in words
And some in acts.

Life's a play and we the players,
The world's our stage
And parts are purely improvised.
No lines to learn,
The plot unfolds as we proceed
From page to page
Making entrances and exits
Each in its turn.

How long the show we're in will run,
No one can say.
We perform and execute our parts
As best we can.
And when we reach the final scene
That ends the play,
The final fact we'll face will be
How well it ran.
Form: Verse

Broken Promises

I trusted you,
I let my walls down for you,
You made a fool of me,
You tore me apart.
My heart has been broken for the last time,
You were the straw that broke the camel’s back,
You never really loved me,
But you hid it so well.
You hurt my best friends,
And that hurt me too,
It took me 9 entire months,
Just to find out what you’d done.
You and I had something unique,
Not a day passed where you didn’t say “I love you”,
All that’s left is broken parts,
Broken trust, broken hearts, broken promises.
I saw a side of you that I never wanted to see,
A ruthless, vicious, heartless side of you,
You’re just like the rest of them,
Never truly satisfied.
You broke the trust I had in you,
And you broke the heart I gave to you,
All the times you said you loved me,
Well, those are all broken promises too.

Premium Member Typical

Typical Is Still
Not Guiltless Enough
To Lie For---

To Excuse
Alleviation Of Guilt:
*Saint Conformity.*

There Must Be Some
Other Way 
        (Or Other) To
Alleviate Guilt...

(Unless You Love
   Guilt
     That Way...)

?Huh?

Now You Made Me
Lose My Choo-Chhoo Train
Of Thought....

Oh Yeah, We're Here For The
Entertainment, And We Are
Totally Part Of The Show...

((All The Actual Parts.))

Say THAT Twice.

At Least.

But We Aren’t The Author,
Or Whatever We Think
Passes As One...

(Unless You
   LOVE GUILT
    SOOO MUCH.)

It's Entertainment For Creation
And Continues To Flow...
Pro-Creating Each Re-Birth
With The Same Probability
Re-Excitement Every Moment!

That Smallest Moment: NOW!

Despite All The Madness
Manifested Around It.

Typical.

-Gray Squirrel

12-18-2025


The Hungry Stones XIV

At this very moment coolies screamed, ‘train', 
We scampered packing up our bags and bales, 
A long-awaited train’s a certain bane, 
But this one turned a boon, such were the tales, 
An English gentleman hailed our hero 
From his carriage and we parted to go 
Our diverse ways—to our cattle-class seat, 
There was no chance to know who that man was, 
Nor yet more light on his tale could be lit, 
Indeed, never-ending may prove some pause. 

Some truths, some lies of life lie ever so, 
Maybe, he took us as credulous fools, 
A painful nerve and anxious seldom cools, 
Some truths and lies born are never to know, 
Perchance the man minted fun at our cost, 
And damsels in distress lay buried, lost. 
_____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIV parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.
Form: Narrative

Worthy of Thought

some sought remedy
it was less likely that these approaches
would yield fact: after all in
the broader realm of it's being
it paled in comparison to what
it wished and wanted to be.
But as one who likes action, and understands what
in the light of doing is: thinks that
this might ripened to be a delicious slice
of pie.
3:14 the Centre of thought, the conscious mind
 from an unconscious state. each person is representative of
an appropriate following, a member of an individual entity.
Studies indicate what worthy, and in it's value to be seen
by those who wish to witness the spectacle of it's being.
Might they function as individual parts: to make they
 "thang" come into being!
stumble upon the creek
and let the pan find the gold,
make me the happy man I know I should be!
that each mind, thinks in accordance's to it's purpose
and every body acts, on the stage it rehearst for
that the sounds shall be acceptable to the masses
and the product made
is seen and wanted by those who wish to have it!
take the mass from the mountain
and hue the stone from the model
make the sight one that those
in yesteryear might remember, and them of tomorrow
might wish to see, and be part of.
yet the songs announce the man, that his actions
come from the reactions of him he challenges
speak me right: that my labors are seen by those
who I represent!

"CapStone Ball" is the Answer to the Challenge put forth by the representatives of a true man, A Male thinktank : that supports Charities.
It formation is part selfish and part charity.
It asked the following.
Might these men bring to the table $10,000.00 each matched by sponsors
we might speak to the challenge of a world un represented.
The Kentucky, Maryland, Florida, Virginia, Appalanation, Arizona, Texas, Hawaiian, Costa Rican, Brazilian National, Nation Peru, Mexican, Africa West, Great Egyptian, Chinese, Beijing Affiliate, United Japan, Greek International, Best Roman, And the New German United, Russian First,United England and America's champions unite to battle out in Battle royal match to Crown The reals World Champion!

Disney Syllabus

Disrupted rough sea ripples shuffle
    audience anticipation
    Shift in seats, hammered hearts
    Pummel, fluffy microphone muffle
    confines communication
    To thespian garish starring parts


    Leading lady stands on X central
    scintillating stiff corset
    Holds ocean of faces transfixed
    Hushed haze of amazed attention
    long leg stride endorses
    Cancan colourful ruffled kicks


    Glitter adds amps to eyes squinted
    focus on filmed direction 
    Glow in spotlight, skin peach orange
    Sets character afloat, limelight lifted 
    dusk dim purple perfection
    Transmits her story beyond onstage

   
     Pivot pelvis razzle reactive samba 
     fast feet choreograph flawless
     Flashy features outshine backdrops
     For her love, Leading man clamours
     resounding auditorium applause
     Ensures her ego never lacks props




     
               13th June
         Theatrical Resume
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Will You Be Mine

I opened my chained heart
For you to see what's inside of me
I opened it in two parts
For you to see the two sides of me

One side shows one color
Dipped in red with honor
The other in plain white
Inside a petri dish in crystal light

My red part only beats once a day
My white part pumps the rest of the day
The red part I keep
The white part I offer you to seep

Only two parts of me
I long waited for you to see
Two sides of me
Not full without you inside of me

You can fill my emptiness
When your heart desires with eagerness
My blood can flow freely in the wilderness
With your veins to sweeten my bitterness

I can ask you only once
To be with me one chance
To dwell in me as my Queen
All my life I will breathe like a King

Will you be mine?

Answer me, if you can hear me?...
If you can feel me, I will be free!
Form: Ballad

Stand Up To Cheers

Don’t just raise your glass, stand up to cheers
Until each and every one gets audibly clinked
Repeating Ike-ism’s stretching memories years
Keeps the good ones up front and spirits linked

Not so subtly cheat (just a little) in a crokinole game 
Enough to get caught to see who’s watching most
Laugh when he’s busted, “Who me?” He’d exclaim
Get the cookie anyway and make a little toast

But don’t just raise your glass, stand up to cheers
Around the table meeting each glass individually
Sing old songs loud enough so everyone hears
Then head to the garage to smoke an O.P.

Overpaying the grandkids to repaint the fence
Who wasted the paint on each other running amok
A sense of good humour even at an expense
So off for more, piled into the big orange truck 

Fixing cars for the cost of parts and a chat
For family and friends over sprockets and gears
Here’s to the happy man with Ike on his hat
So don’t just raise your glass, stand up to cheers!
Form: Quatrain

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