Long Patently Poems
Long Patently Poems. Below are the most popular long Patently by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Patently poems by poem length and keyword.
There’s Scottie in his chair
Tongue firmly in his cheek
Trying to wind up Old Noel,
The highlight of his week.
Noel, over eighty, Veteran
Of the Korean War
Gives as good as he gets
And dishes out much more.
Gordon’s his visiting carer
Sits there with a big grin
Not himself a veteran but
He’s managed to fit in.
Big Dave is eating as usual
Throwing in the odd word,
The vision of him ever fitting
In a tank now patently absurd.
Crann’s the honorary caretaker
Helping out while he waits
For his entry Visa to join
His fiancee over in the states.
Emily the teenaged volunteer
Who won’t take any lip
Has those hardened veterans
Under her slender finger tips.
Tuesday morning at The Centre,
Stacks of admin there to do,
Bur I’ve had to close the office
And get on with the brew.
It’s not yet ten o’clock
The Drop-in looks nearly full
Already starting the craic
The banter and the bull.
So many other people coming
In and out in a steady flow
As one comes in another
Just seems to get up go.
Regimental rivalries
Black Forces Humour
Downright lies and
Manufactured rumour.
Hobbie’s by the door
Taking the whole scene in,
Vic’s chatting to Chris
Who’s sat there with a grin.
That’s the way it used to be
But now it’s closed and gone
In a Covid changed world
Where things have moved on.
So many years we lasted
Existing from day to day
And then for some reason
We seemed to lose our way.
The rise of the Pandemic
Seemed to be the last straw
And the founding spirit just
Wasn’t’ there any more.
The Drop-in that helped so many
Was just too good to last
Like so many valued things
Just a memory of the past.
As I have and I presume most of you have as well
Had at some point in our life time
Had to experience loss and death
And a Silent muse just posed the question
I am now about to ask of you to
Given that there is no good way to die
But that death is how we all meet our end
Then on which side of this decision do you fall
A sudden death in an instant
One moment here the next you are gone
Maybe perhaps wall alone with no one there
Never having said or got to make you peace
Or being given say six months to live
Ever slowly slipping fading away
Most probably suffering daily in endless pain
Never not knowing if today is the day
And having to see the look on loved ones faces
But at least you got to say and make your peace
Goodbye and everything you wanted to say
And the funny contradictions about death
Is it effects those way far more still living in reality
Than the dead for sure per say
As in death the dead pose no question anymore
As they are Silent One and all forevermore
The pains of those ailments that grab us at will
Once better, like stalkers, can linger on still
But it’s patently true that life’s bitterest pill
Is the pain when it’s someone you love that is ill
When struck down, bedridden, we try to be brave
Though we feel our survival might be a close shave
But we’d gladly accept our God’s beckoning wave
If that keeps our loved one away from their grave
*
And so when I hear that slight tremor of fear
No hug and no words for the one I hold dear
Can bring forth a smile full of genuine cheer
And that forehead kiss… conceals my own tear
At night, to the God in whom I don’t believe
I sheepishly say, “I don’t want her to leave.”
I snuggle up close, I’m not ready to grieve
And I smile in the morning as I hear her breathe
The doctors I’ve trusted I must trust in still
For they’ll mend her again; I’m sure that they will
But it’s patently true that life’s bitterest pill
Is the pain when it’s someone you love that is ill
Debussy Inspiration
I advanced from piano player to pianist
When I finally memorized Claire De Lune.
Since then I’ve migrated to a rhythm guitarist,
But I could never escape that flowing tune.
I played Debussy’s song so often without the sheets
That over time it evolved to something else.
A few different notes or off-rhythmic beats;
So that an expert would patently find it false.
I eventually learned to play more difficult songs:
Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini,
And many of Scott Joplin’s syncopated ragtime songs;
But Debussy’s Claire De Lune still remains a part of me.
20140528
A person of substance who has morals and character
Having this about their persona questioned by someone
Least of all someone completely lacking such characteristics
Will can and would never ever be able to understand
Exactly what that would mean and do to someone who has
It's like trying to explain to someone
What it is like to be loved and to feel loved
You either are or you quite patently aren't
2 individual all of which are people
But are worlds apart in terms of individual feelings
And relative perspective on what actually
adds any true value or meaning in life
Until in the very end eventually 1 finds oneself
Revisiting a dearly departed loved ones diary
Questioning realistically has all that has gone before
Really in fact bitten the dust
Or just covered it up
Endlessly expectantly awaiting
a knock upon one's front door
That quite patently you know deep
inside your heart and soul is destined
never ever to come
No matter how hard or many times
you wish upon it will
Is a lifetime in part best spent
Stuck waiting all alone inside starring
out a window and dusty curtains
At strangers and life passing bye
And if you listen hard enough the
faintest of knocking noises heard
Before the door is closed behind them
shut
Once those who are warmly welcomed
are safely ushered in
Offered up a cup of tea or whatsoever
beverage they desire
And so begin to recite converse
declaration , exclamation
In order to propagate and facilitate the
purpose of a conjugal visit
Whilst he or she across the road makes
use of the nearby dusty curtains
To wipe and dry the tears away from
their eyes
More in just than in hope and endless
expectation
A knock upon one's front door finally arrives
And they don't look their best
Far away from her, far from comfort zone
He goes there, where life beckons him
Remaining true to purpose and meaning
Atop the mountains or deep in the valleys
Revering her love, as he journeys alone.
Maneuvering around life's dead-ends
In wayward motion of destiny's u-turns,
Avenues she illuminates besting darkness--
Being his street-lamp, patently she burns.
When forces somber aim to deter him
Bravely she appears readying her valor
Standing by him, in step with his shadow.
He sees her all-over, where there is love.
January 27, 2019
Placed first in ultimate January 2019 contest by Brian Strand
Pictures of mind
Ache thoughts,
When not on point-
In accordance
With the sea of hints,
Swimming clues...
Looks sway differently
Reluctant legs charm bluntly
Posing patently
Future on hourglass,
Ache plans
When structured off chaos,
Not considered cum change-
Of unexpected losses,
Strengthening heart.
Problems gallantly
Do shift focus instantly
Tempt goals frequently
Happiness on tongue
Ache reasons:
Its being surrounded.
Only naturalists enjoy...
Unattached felicity;
Abounding nature.
Acceptance is cool
Consents seeking minds to fool
Endorsed advance tool
Women of purpose,
Ache men waiting on turn...
To be expressive...
Young but barely handy:
Waning fate's opportunity,
Leaning cum excuses.
Men are not jewels
Never be of ridicules
Heads pressure to rule
Community on impression,
Ache effects.
How stamp seekers,
Go extra miles...
Cum pretense to imprint,
Such value to eyes.
What worth did you show?
Belongs to please judging foe?
Or for house to grow?
Men of reckon,
Ache sleazy women:
Of flamboyant lifestyles-
Ignoring calls to duty,
They heartily subscribed,
Promoting humility.
Sincerity owe
Humility not a hoe
Duty's land not sow
Those who have the muse of madness in the soul,
passing through the doors of intuition very artful.
Where music and poetry play the touches of mad,
from the genius and sacrificing melancholy of insanity of load.
In the state of divine possession, the enraptured performer in height,
effecting the listeners soul to similar ecstatic union in resonance alright.
Magical procedure or mass psychotic transaction,
the act of engendered furies stimulating creative attraction.
Stimulus divine will as it manifest throughout creation,
the multiverse in individual subtle emotion.
Symbolic energies extend to the realm of sense,
and their efficacy do what they patently do intense.
The chaos and the melancholic drama of meaning,
enduring metaphor in natures law of karmic being.
The soul as an instrument of its kind,
penetrates to its innermost core for synchronicity to find.
Imitation of celestial qualities and interaction of spirit revealed,
the performance and audience in close contact concealed.
Barbed Flowers.
I would write this all down to you
If i thought you could read.
If your hand didn't cast a shadow
on what i would author.
If only you had seen what i saw,
What i can only chalk about now
but not here - Afterall...
Listen? You can't do that, one of two!
Not for yourself, not even momentarily.
Patently, not for me nor for others.
Not for our girls who have ears
that listen and seesaw.
Your noisy darkness grasps the heart,
plays it like a theremin.
This is how i feel
when you feel the way you do...
Like something always does.
Better left unseen, unheard, unread.
Put to rest the thread,
it comes unraveled
when the needle is un-minded.
The scent of October,
it's windy fragrance,
i scribe this to myself.
Saptaparna etched in color.
Holding the muddle together,
a little while longer... with rusted wire.
I nurture beautiful, barbed flowers.