Long Past or present Poems
Long Past or present Poems. Below are the most popular long Past or present by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Past or present poems by poem length and keyword.
My DNA was planted at a crime scene
in an apartment that I truthfully have never been.
My fingerprints were found on the murder weapon,
a Bowie knife that was a gift from a long lost friend.
Buried in storage for decades is where that knife had been.
Until now, for me that Bowie knife was long forgotten.
I don't know nor have I ever known the victim
or any of the victim's past or present relations.
I'm now the prime suspect in this investigation
and I don't have a very good alibi to give them.
"Where were you at the time this murder happened?"
the detective asked me during my interrigation.
"I was at home alone," I answered, "as I often am."
The detective then asked me the following question,
"Can your presence at that time be substantiated by anyone?"
"None that I can think of presently," I responded feeling broken.
I was read my Miranda rights and I'm now in the system,
but I swear, I've been framed. I Am Innocent."
*
The above hasn't really happened to me,
but one day it did occur to me
that due to my lifestyle which I live very solitary,
that I could be a sociopath's perfect patsie,
since very few ever eye witness that I truly may be
at my home all alone with just my cats for company,
and my felines can't attest to my presence unfortunately.
*
The mirror never lies but we do to ourselves and others
A reflection that speaks louder than our conscience
Smothered by denial so the ghosts of our past disappear
The mirror casts only what it sees past or present
Meanwhile the rain ends the growing ends
the warm colours a frigid memory
And then the falling snow paints with shades of black and white
Sleep sweet dreamer with many shadows playing hide and seek
The mirror casts only what it sees past or present
Resurrection forgiveness awakens re-birth rejoicing in the soul
Brings peace like autumn winds that paint heavenly colours
That no one on earth can duplicate
Sun sets only to see the Artist creating the night sky
Then the sun arises
From nowhere somewhere a divine wind and rain revives
A reflection smothered in courageous love
And joy is the outburst composed by the excitement of the dancing sun
A welcome alarm clock to raise the dead and the dreamers
Frank Black Blacharczyk
Sitting in this shabby chair
By the screen at night
In the middle of nowhere
Outside and inside
I’ve been meaning to tell you
Something that you know
For a long time that passed through
Something you won’t show
But you know it well enough
So I am aware
That we can’t delete this stuff
It is always there
Not my fault of past or present
Neither it is yours
It just happens, or it doesn’t
Without any cause
Calling through the wind and snow
It’s the voice of time
Time to come, and time to go
Time that brings no sign
Time that says it is too late
Time to close the call
Time that has no time to wait
Time that makes me small
Time to hug an empty space
Kissing this cold air
Time to turn my smiling face
Back into nowhere.
Her name is Seren
Yes the proud welsh girl, not foe, hopefully a fren
The number of contest she entered, maybe a million
On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d give her a billion
She has passionately stated her favorite color is green
She talked about more shades than I think I’ve seen
My vision isn’t great, but good thing I’m not color blind too
Then I’d be like those Greeks, with one word for green and blue
She also has a pooch named Tilly
If that’s a variation of Teal then she’s green silly
Maybe instead of silly I better choose a synonym
Lest emerald becomes jade and I sing a new hymn
Yes of PD, I could write clerihews day and night
However, whatever I may or might write, it’s never in spite
She loves alliteration, writing recklessly reaping rich reward
Of ailing alliteration, I’m alienated, not even a steady steward
I think my friend PD thinks I’m the meanie
With my clerihew about seeds, I think she dubbed me weenie
I am sorry Linda, I was going to remove it from the site
But too many others found some delight
Last but not least ThePhilosopher, yeah that’s me
The one that always seems to be lost at sea
You would think either past or present I was a sailor
However on life’s quest I’ve been quite the delayer
My name is Wayland, no not the first nor the third
I am the second and sometimes I mention a bird
Speaking of the bird, I look at the top 100 poems list
And obviously there is something that I missed
When I speak of the top 100’s list, I mean for two weeks
Some post almost two hundred, yes 200, they aren’t meek
I wonder how it’s possible and then I read their verse
Many times I’m often left to curse
But since when did ThePhilosopher, become the judger of prose
His clerihews always talking about these, thou, and those
I should change my name to King James
But my buddy is already King of the Quatrains
Oh yes My buddy Jack will be the last
The subjects he writes about are vast
Too many to remember with all his pretty words
When I think of his poems I don’t think of birds
I recently read his poem titled bums unite
He said he gave them money at times, it probably felt right
He said someday they may even get a ten spot
If someone gives me a ten spot, then I’m yelling JACKPOT!
*these are always done if fun, hahaha another random rhyme
My heart skips a beat I lose my breath
When I think of his life of sacrifice
And his crusade for human rights
Leading the revolution against apartheid
With rare tenacity and might
A lawyer by trade a pacifist by nature
Standing for truth and reconciliation
Just him and his ideals for god-given rights
Standing and never wavering
Giving voice to the speechless and the persecuted
Refusing to be silent in the face of injustice
Determined to annihilate tyranny and racist oppression
An icon of democracy and social justice
Never to be forgotten
A statue erected where Mandela
Was released from 27 years in prison
A simple man bigger than life itself
With dreams of emancipation
One philanthropist who would change
The world no matter what the cost
Read on air by invitation ~ April 28, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: 1st place 2021, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on January 25, 2020 for contest ODE TO A PRESIDENT OR POLITICIAN OR LEADER PAST OR PRESENT sponsored by SHERI FRESONKE HARPER - RANKED 5TH
Moss Cowed Covenant I Keep Putin Off...
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how
Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled
courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
"worlds of love"
somewhere between yesterday and today we lived
we lived through good and bad sailing through
walking along gardens we witnessed each color
under the sun we listened to voices of spring
always remembering the key ingredient to hold
with each moment past or present we've grown
grown mind body and soul to never turn back
such gardens brought beauty to the eye
such voices brought harmony to the ear
always remembering the key ingredient to hold
above all within realms of sights and sounds
life has been full among beauty and grace
experiencing the wonder and gift to uphold
surrounded endlessly are we by worlds of love
still the world of love with you is what I hold
SkyWatcher - 10-28-17
may this day find you all well
may it be filled with love
Anger never comes against this true world
Never cry for failure past or present
Like the nature I'm free bird all over
Sun rises and night comes for the next day
In this world I live in my alone thought
No start, no end I keep in life baskets
Like the flowing river it passes all
Since birth I'm slight talker as usual
All are here even the heaven and hell
Holy wine, divine whore and lustful boy
Judgement day, punishment, free from guilty
Only matured time the true convener
Waiting patience the recycling portrait
Everything moves through ecliptic rebirth
25.09.2020 Chattogram
With Presidents Day coming up this Monday, I submit my tribute to the president born Feb. 12, 1809:
Ode to My Hero: Dear Abe
At many things, Abe Lincoln was the best.
From boyhood to manhood, how he shone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
I picture him a farm lad poorly dressed -
kind soul and working so hard all alone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Entertaining, Lincoln liked to jest.
Tall and strong was he when fully grown.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Great intellect and talents he possessed.
Many things he learned all on his own!
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
He led a nation facing great unrest,
for slavery dear Abe could not condone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Feb. 15, 2020 for Sheri Fresonke Harper's
Ode To A President Or Politician Or Leader Past Or Present Poetry Contest
Prime Minister of Canada, Justin Trudeau,
was born on Christmas night, I think under a star;
and became the 23rd Prime Minister of Canada,
and leader of the Liberal party;
son of former Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau.
Justin is a kind, polite, fun loving man,
he was a snowboarding instructor, night club bouncer;
was a teacher, a boxer when younger,
and legalized marijuana in Canada to shut down illegal sales;
he wrote his memoir in 2014, a bit early Justin.
As Prime Minister, he apologized on behalf of Canada,
to the Indigenous People for wrong doings through history;
and also to other communities for transgressions of the past,
he has no fear to stand up to the USA President, any leader;
during his election campaign he always remained the gentleman.
Some, may find him too passive- I see his inner strength,
he is a wonderful representative for Canada;
with his movie star good looks, easy smile and laugh,
I love his upbeat personality and positive attitude;
and I am proud to call him my leader, my Prime Minister.
______________________________
February 5, 2020
Poetry/Ode/To Prime Minister Justin Trudeau
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1223-268-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Ode To A President, or Politician or Leader,
Past or Present, sponsor, Sheri Fresonke Harper
Fourth Place