Long Peculiarly Poems
Long Peculiarly Poems. Below are the most popular long Peculiarly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Peculiarly poems by poem length and keyword.
Akin twin invisible presence coaxing...paranormal
Action across ouija board
herald Faustian bargain
as fingers of left hand appear to move
planchette of their own accord...
inexplicably, silently, and verily
along a barely traceable minuscule chord
dance, with some spatial force
from outer limits, perhaps dimension unexplored
twilight zone, (where spirit of Rod Serling dwells)
horizontally, linearly, and peculiarly unmoored
hashtagging, kickstarting, and zigzagging
while just barely hoovering
with maybe a hair breath of space to afford
between alien world and terrestrial
plain playing field, when oh my lord...
(this premature ejeculation from an atheist sword
like cross my heart and hope
to die a martyrs death), thee paranormal
shenanigans witness movement toward,
and away from death still participants mouths agape
with bated breath until last letter scored
which message... uh...ah...cannot be revealed
yeah...yeah...yeah...due to HIPAA laws...
...Without explanation,
there gets heard clangorous din
along with whooshes of ice cold air
brushing against my chin
analogous to some unseen
genie i.e. and/or jinn freed
from the lantern by Aladdin,
then,...how odd...
a deathlike stillness one could hear a pin
drop pervades painfully quiet
as if sound got vacuumed in
to a void of parallel universe...
...Though I don't dabble in black magic,
nor nothing linkedin with the occult,
yours truly titled poem
to "grab" attention fast as Usain Bolt,
he dashes off runners block
blinding earth shattering jolt
faster than speeding bullet,
a praiseworthy athlete
with no win tent to insult,
but merely chose his name out of thin air
(in accordance with abracadabra)
and flimsy rhyme that did result...
But, aye beg (bribe
with wealth of Midas)...please
believe me you, this rather cheese
zee poetic endeavor got
wrought eyes wide shut
(for all intents and purposes eyes closed),
where gentle force did cease
phalanges asthma southern paw
of righteous honest to dog
gone guy with pennywise
and pound foolish sixth cents sees
dead people as like miniature floaters
(in my eyes with ease)
poised and struck unbeknownst to me
computer laptop black keys!
National Panic Wednesday March 9th, 2022 actually... every day
Founded by Tom and Ruth Roy
solely to acknowledge hardship
of A. R. Harris
and her husband M.S. Harris,
who cope poorly
(even courtesy medication)
with anxiety attacks, especially when
violated, probed, interrogated courtesy
Highland Manor inquisition,
which traumatizing event happened
on aforementioned date
included with poem title.
J. G. and P. F.
constitute management team
under jurisdiction of Quoss
(pronounced chhath tt) and Grade,
who espouse principle laissez faire
but whose exhibited heavy handedness
pertaining to the married couple
named in the third line of this poem.
Either one or the other gals
who attend these premises
here at the Schwenksville location
(I won't mention
the state as penile solitude)
alluded to a peculiarly nasty odor
emanating from unit B44,
our man/woman cave.
We received a twenty four hour deadline
to get into shipshape the disarray
messiness even Pigpen
would find abominable,
yet upon receiving both
oral and written admonition,
me and the missus
buckled down and kickstarted
frenzied whirlwind one bedroom
apartment cleaning spree
zoned out like zombies of Sugar Hill
when the clock struck bewitching hour,
more specifically that alluded time
synonymous with midnight.
No matter we felt dead tired
whereat neither option
to acquire additional time,
nor desist existed,
and yet nearly impossible mission
to continue, but appealing
to temptation of sandman
out of the question.
Deep sleep for the weary
appeared oh so heavenly,
on par with plate
of powder milk biscuits,
our mandate (analogous to pilgrims
adults and children -
forced to fight in crusades)
forbid cessation, thus to plod
and plow onward
despite overwhelming urge to plotz,
(not the slang definition)
found yours truly
blissfully in dreamland
when me noggin hit the pillow,
Not for a minute
could yours truly
sit down and take a breather,
despite severe lower
(rightside) back pain.
Said dull throbbing ache
diagnosed as tight muscles
by Doctor (physical therapist)
John R. Mishock,
he would not countenance
(approve, comply, honor...)
I popped one Ibuprofen.
Akin Twin Invisible Presence Coaxing...
Action across ouija board
fingers of left hand appear to move
planchette of their own accord...
inexplicably, silently, and verily
along a barely traceable minuscule chord
dance, with some spatial force
from outer limits,
perhaps a dimension unexplored
of twilight zone, (where spirit
of Rod Serling dwells)
horizontally, linearly, and peculiarly unmoored
hashtagging, kickstarting, and zigzagging
while just barely hoovering
with maybe a hair breath
of space to afford
between alien world and terrestrial
plain playing field, when oh my lord...
(this premature ejeculation
from an atheist sword
like cross my heart), thee paranormal
shenanigans witness movement toward,
and away from death still
participants mouths agape
with bated breath until last letter scored
which message... uh...ah...cannot be revealed
yeah...yeah...yeah...due to HIPAA laws...
...(Without explanation, there
gets heard a clangorous din
along with whooshes of ice cold air
brushing against my chin
analogous to some unseen
genie i.e. and/or jinn
freed from the lantern by Aladdin,
then,...how odd...a deathlike
stillness one could hear a pin
drop pervades so painfully quiet
as if...all sound got vacuumed in
to a void of parallel universe...
...Though I don't dabble in the black magic,
nor nothing linkedin with the occult,
yours truly titled his poem used to
"grab" attention fast as Usain Bolt,
he who dashes off runners block
as a blinding earth shattering jolt
faster than speeding bullet,
a praiseworthy athlete with no win tent to insult,
but merely chose his name out of thin air
(in accordance with abracadabra)
and flimsy rhyme that did result...
But..., aye...beg (bribe with
all the wealth of Midas)...please
believe me you, this rather cheese
zee poetic endeavor got
wrought with eyes wide shut
(for all intents and purposes eyes closed),
where gentle force did cease
phalanges asthma southern paw
of righteous honest to dog
gone guy with sixth cents sees
dead people as like miniature floaters
(in my eyes with ease)
poised and struck unbeknownst
computer laptop black keys!
Fears of Abandonment
I feel you need
and want me less
than I need
and want you,
and like you,
or how about exclusively
peculiarly
curiously love you?
adult with mature adult,
embracing EarthTribe perennial invitation
into nutritious co-habitation.
And yet I fear
we both would rather invest ourselves
in most any distraction,
entertainment,
idle gossip,
idol worship,
other than this sacramental relationship
of me with
and for you,
and you
with and for me.
Not despite all our decades
of competing foolishness,
but learning together through all our beat down
hidden longings
to feel safe daily respite;
to feed sacred partnered
sanctuary feelings,
covenanted thoughts
Of epic everyday co-investors
with no sacred or secular,
divine or profane assets
held in dualistic
disassociated reserve,
just in case life doesn't work out safely together
better than unsafely apart.
When sacred love conquers all defensive fears
and transparent invitation
redeems secular competitions in anger
overwhelming economies of needy greed
and selfish politics of envy,
When daily co-passion rules
not just left-brain corporate commodity identities
but also pervades our cooperative right-brain sanctuary
of primal relationship feelings,
deep learning connection,
robust attachment,
Then our mutual root system
and garden,
our forest of emotions,
our home plate defensive motions,
our core incorporations
for not abandoning compassionate Earth
as we know and love
all Her multiculturing incarnations
of co-empathic relations
further refine Golden Rules and Ratios,
Health-passion, slow-grown
co-arising emergent ecstasies,
co-gravity emoting climax,
epic wonder,
awesome win/win integrity.
Feeling cooperatively needed
wanted
heard
appreciated
through natural nurturing ego/ecosystems,
mutually-held and responsive invitations
to love all EarthTribes,
life forms
as EarthMother has win/win loved you
and me,
All Souls of regenerations past,
present,
future.
What's In A Name
(Heritage, Proudly Honored)
From ancient lineage comes my last name
Brave warriors that drank strong ale, spilled blood.
Some were letters men, spoke in Irish brogue
foot loose fancy free, set for any game!
Patrons of olden villages and their pubs
They daily, drank to sing and sang to drink.
A few were artists, painters and that lot
sworn to clan, beloved clan was their club!
Masters of vast lands, in valley of trees
Shepherds of flocks defended only by staffs.
Others arms makers, broad-swords forged true
More recent times, sailors of seven seas!
Yet I dare to honor father's proud name
With pen marks and compassion's flaming glow.
Family dear, loved beyond my own life
As I breathe, teach my son to do the same!
With humility, pray these words hold true
Each day, I shall bless those I most cherish.
At night, guard lives even should it cost mine
With honor, pay great homage that is due!
January 9th, 2017
Syllable count checked : www.howmanysyllables.com
For Contest :
What's in a name? - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by SilentOne
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
1. BROGUE
The term brogue (/bro?g/ BROWG) generally refers to an Irish accent. Less commonly, it may also refer to certain other regional forms of English, in particular those of Scotland or the English West Country.[1][2]
The word was first recorded in 1689.[3] Multiple etymologies have been proposed: it may derive from the Irish bróg ("rough or stout shoe"), the type of shoe traditionally worn by the people of Ireland and the Scottish Highlands, and hence possibly originally meant "the speech of those who call a shoe a 'brogue'".[4] It is also possible that the term comes from the Irish word barróg, meaning "a hold (on the tongue)", thus "accent" or "speech impediment".[5] A famous false etymology states that the word stems from the supposed perception that the Irish spoke English so peculiarly that it was as if they did so "with a shoe in their mouths".[6]
Elder indigenous RightBrain
peak resonant experience
is eco-synergetic,
so not ego-centric
Because interdependent organic systems
are EarthTribally animistic
not monopolized by mono-anthro
LeftBrain monotheistic dominance.
RightBrain prominent ecstasy
fulfills win/win co-invested play
of ecologically interdependent
cooperatively sacred
polycultural wu-wei
Democratic energy neuro-systems
secular health Left
embracing sacred wealth integrity
reforming bicameral elder Right
polytheistic polyvagal
ancient communication networks
Commonly held by organic life and death
multi-regenerational reiterations
of EarthTribal pantheistic
inside/outside views
of inter-religious gospel news
Ego-inside spiritually introverted subjects
feeling
also Eco-Other natural co-empathic objects
touching
with physical felt choice perception
and/or voice touched reception
Objectives
of Right/Left bicameral
peak win/win experiences
not autonomously egocentric
because EarthTribal identities
are not peculiarly anthropocentric
as is monotheistic
monopolistic
monoculturing win/lose LeftBrain dominance
Worshiping anthro-exceptional world views
like Straight White Corporate AlphaMale
historical privilege
as compared to cooperative
co-empathic
co-invested
sacred polycultural ecofeminists
Engaging peak natural/spiritual
nondualistic grace
of bicamerally balanced
touching vocations
feeling blissful vacations
in integral joy
absorbing dismal tragedy
Advocating total co-investment
in nonviolent co-passion communication
for restoring peak unconditional regard
of EarthPeace, empowered right
resonant redistributions
for EarthTribal Justice, enlightened left
restorying resilient restorations.
Morality and self-fulfillment
attainable without belief in God
similarly yours truly
would figuratively crane
his credulity to ascertain Ichabod
mentioned in first Book of Samuel
as purported son of Phinehas,
I reject entire Biblical text,
and prefer to remain sacrilegious
eschewing faith no more,
(cuz doctrinaire versus
epistemological paradigm)
disagreeable, thus essentially
resigning yours truly
as token scapegoat gussied
up as heretical nimrod
metaphorically winkin blinkin
nonverbally giving nod
even if deaf mute blatherskite
reduced in one sentence as an odd
ditty, I spout gibberish
while travelling finite orbitz,
whereby one metrical foot
in front of thee other hide doth plod
me along tried and
true value schlemiel totally slipshod
thru and through,
though no po' tightwad!
Growing up amidst paternal
skeptical and cynical dad
in retrospect, I feel moral less glad
to avoid orthodox precepts
foisted when juiced a wee lad,
who peculiarly enough
resembled Alfred E. Neuman
if only yours truly
a figment of imagination,
rather than experiencing being sad
sack these days purposelessly
shuffling within ma rented pad
i.e. one bedroom apartment
listening to spouse more'n tad
annoying if oft times
knows exactly what childlike behavior
finds me getting stark raving mad.
Familiarity breeds contempt,
and the missus (unlike other gals)
unconditionally accepts her sir
vile counterpart (me) unkempt,
where neither of us
once upon a time dreamt
that each the other
would survive foreign attempt
to pledge troth (courtesy
justice of the peace
also known as
Magisterial District Judge:
Henry Schireson of Lower Merion
nsync with fame of Kobe Bryant
You may think I am peculiar…you may think me a little odd
when I still say I am not religious but I do believe in God.
So let me share with you for a moment…a few qualities I’ve compiled
Of my god…the one I’ve been praying to…since I was but a child.
My God is not prejudiced…not bigoted…my God does not discriminate
My God is a God of Love and sharing…my God will never not hate.
My God sees the differences in all of us…and these difference my God lauds
My God even gets along…with all the other Gods.
My God is a God of hope and faith…not a God of doom
My God instills that hope in every seedling…and has faith that every flower will bloom.
My God believes in charity, he knows the key for people to live
Is not in how much they take in life...but how much they give.
My God believes in love…knowing love shall light the way
My God cares not if I am straight, or Bi, or lesbian or gay.
My God knows no war is holy and like me prays for them to cease
My God believes in kindness…my God believes in peace.
My God has given me the ability to decide what is right and what is wrong
My God knows I’ll make mistakes for he knows my journey’s long.
My God only asks that I show kindness and treat everyone the same
so when I die people will smile at the mere mention of my name.
For nothing in this world would bring a broader smile to my God’s face
than knowing everyone my God created would leave this world a better place.
As you may surmise from this list of qualities I’ve compiled
The God whom I still pray to…is the God I prayed to as a child.
If you think that makes me peculiar
If you think that makes me odd
know I am oddly, peculiarly happy
In the comfort of my God.
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
I’ve heard you’ve been feeling quite stuck,
been on a streak of peculiarly bad luck.
Black cats are always prettier than the rest,
and always been wittier I’ve confessed,
stop and breathe, you’ve been running amuck.
For your life has been put to the test.
Keep your eyes and ears open when I say,
please don’t listen to them anyway.
I’m wiser than they always are, you see,
be exactly who you always wanted to be.
I pray you will always live to be okay,
live a life so renown, happy and carefree.
Slow down and remember one thing,
with my friendship you can do anything.
You are so strong, courageous and wise,
I can see it in those beautiful eyes,
and in the tune you carry when you sing.
For I am a woman who tells you no lies.
Be true to yourself and have faith in us,
fill your heart with compassion and trust-
Bad luck is nothing but a state of mind,
your life has been so gracious and kind,
remember to have hope it’s a must!
For you are beauty and marvel combined.
So next time you feel down and out,
and you feel like you want to shout,
tell yourself your life is better than most,
be confident in yourself but don’t boast,
be filled with certainty and not doubt.
May you be as joyous as a heavenly host.
I chose picture #2
There is a Brighter Side Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
January 6th, 2018